Many Roads Untraveled
by Princepen
Summary: 2367: Several months ago, the Enterprise was involved in an incident which ultimately forced Captain Picard to retire in disgrace from Starfleet. In the months following, the dispersed former Enterprise crew must reunite to uncover what happened to the Captain and to stop a new emerging threat to the Federation. Book One of this story is complete. Second half to be posted later.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, but please do not hold that against me...**

**Chapter 1**

* * *

**Earth-June 2367**

His hand shook as he picked up the stylus, leaning on the kitchen table. His breath quickened. It was happening again—the discomfort, the dizziness, the now unmistakable and frightening fading of his vision.

Tears of frustration and sadness ran down his cheeks, and he gritted his teeth as he gripped the writing instrument. All too distant were the days when he could successfully use a touch pad, without his fingers slipping, making his typing unintelligible. And his handwriting wasn't much better, but it didn't matter; he had to get the words out somehow.

"_My dearest Beverly—it has been several months since we last spoke, and of all things, of all people, you are never far from my mind—such as it is. I know now even in my…debilitated state, that I should have been honest with you about everything—"_

"Ah…ah," he dropped the stylus, and watched as his hands began again to phase out of existence. As with all of these episodes, he felt as though his heart was going to burst it had begun beating so quickly. It was painful, it was frightening, but most importantly, soon enough he believed it would be ending; all of it would end. He blinked a few times and gradually his hands became visible again and his heart rate slowed. Taking a deep breath, he picked up the stylus again and placed it on the writing pad.

"—_everything that I feel for you. I understand if you have no room in your heart to forgive me. Perhaps things could have been different, if I had only had more courage. But now something terrible is happening to me, and I am afraid I do not have much longer—" _He looked up, surprised by the sound of his front door opening. Dammit, he must have forgotten to set the security controls again.

His lip trembled, as the visitor entered without permission, greeting him with a slow and slimy smile. In his prime he would have wiped that smile off the visitor's face. But he wasn't in his prime. He could hardly talk now, and at the moment, he doubted if he could walk, let alone present a physical threat to anyone.

He struggled to get up from the table, and then fell back into his chair clumsily, which only caused the intruder to laugh. "B-B-Bok…" he forced the words out.

"Yes, Picard," Daimon Bok sneered, leaning down over him. "You _remember_ me. That is good. It is fitting that you should leave this world knowing that I am the one responsible for your loss, your humiliation…." The Ferengi pulled out a standard type I phaser from underneath his coat and placed it down on the table. "Now with this knowledge you will prepare to leave this world forever…."

* * *

**Starfleet Command-Three days later…**

"Commander Riker…you testified previously that you never saw the disturbance described in Captain Picard's subsequent log records." The four Admirals stared down at him from the bench with a collectively piercing gaze.

Will Riker had been here before, and what he was about to say, he had more or less said before—four months earlier to be exact. He shifted in his seat from the seemingly unending irritation of it all. He took a deep steadying breath. "Yes, that is correct."

"And you also testified that you believed that this so-called disturbance in fact never existed."

Riker clasped his hands together and lifted his chin. "I know that whatever it was Captain Picard thought he saw that day—he believed it to be real."

"But it wasn't _real_, was it, Commander?"

Riker bent his head and rubbed his forehead. He pressed his lips together and leveled his gaze at his inquisitors. "There was nothing on the sensors."

"For an officer which such a promising career ahead of him, it puzzles us all, Commander Riker why you persist in continuing to protect a disgraced former Captain."

"He'd do the same for me."

"But he didn't protect you did he, Commander? Instead he prevented you from stopping him. He took steps which caused a warp core breach, ultimately resulting in the destruction of the star drive section of the Enterprise."

Riker flexed his hands into fists holding them tightly against his knees. "No one died. Those injured were healed…" he said dully. _Everyone except for Picard_, he thought.

"But the damage was done, Commander. The Enterprise has now been decommissioned, it's crew has split up."

Riker raised his head to gaze at them squarely. "Why have you called me here today? We've been over all of this before."

"Certain events have now occurred, which may relate to the incident and now require our immediate attention," said one admiral. "One of these events, regrettably is beyond our control…and involves former Captain Picard."

Riker stiffened. He hadn't spoken to Picard in at least three months. In fact, no one from the Enterprise crew had successfully spoken to Picard in as much time. After he had been all but driven out of Starfleet in disgrace, he had retired quietly and retreated to a modest home in Hawaii, preferring to remain alone and elusive. Riker had been busy preparing for his next assignment and had been putting the unsettling events behind him as much as possible. His immediate reaction to hearing about Picard at all caused him to feel guilty. "What do you mean?"

"When is the last time you spoke with Picard?"

"Three months or so," Riker admitted. He leaned forward. "What has happened?"

"A distress signal was issued from Picard's home three days ago. A Starfleet shuttle reported immediately, and an investigation was quickly conducted at the scene."

Riker shook his head feeling dazed. "Scene…investigation?" He stood up quickly. "I've been out of touch. I should go to him now."

"Commander, we are sorry. But Captain Picard is dead. And all evidence points to suicide."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

_"Captain, the ship is firing!"_ Vigo's steady voice repeated in his head, pulling him out of unconsciousness. _"Evasive maneuvers,"_ he remembered shouting back at his weapons officer. There had been no time to fire an accurate shot. The ship had been hit twice, and then they had been enveloped in blackness, and then…he woke up here. He sat up, only to find strong bands of some kind of material restraining his limbs. He opened his eyes to discover he was in a dark room. His right eye was closed, swollen shut, but judging by the view from his left eye, there wasn't much to see in the room.

_Where am I?_ Was he on board the ship that had fired on them without warning? The unmistakable smell of blood mixed with sweat invaded the senses of Captain Jean-Luc Picard. In the space of a moment, he realized with dismay that it was his blood and his sweat, unfortunately. But he also smelled the unpleasant scent of something or someone else in the room with him. He heard the shuffle of what sounded like feet and raspy breathing to his right. Whoever was there with him was taking advantage of the fact that he couldn't see out of his right eye by staying out of his line of vision for the moment. Not a good sign.

He twisted and pulled at his wrists in the restraints but he was held fast. When he tried it again he was rewarded by a sharp electric shock to his ribs. He shrieked involuntarily, but pulled harder spurred on by his own fear. A fist slammed into the side of his face and he tasted blood.

"Har due ach species?" The creature closest to him glared down at him. It had dark blue skin with sharp incisors and canine teeth that protruded from its large mouth. The creature's long black hair reached down to its shoulders and was possibly its most redeeming quality. Its nose consisted of just two small holes above the immense mouth and the rest of its facial features were mashed as though it had been punched in the face one too many times. Whether that was the case or it simply had a genetic predisposition for ugliness was unclear and ultimately didn't really matter to Picard.

"Let me go," he demanded trying to avoid the solidification of his panic, and realizing they likely could not understand him any better than he could understand them.

Unfortunately for him they were not giving up. "Give ach tratuh serum. Needs more...the par hem understand dret," snarled another voice, and a needle of some kind was thrust into the side of his neck roughly He didn't have chance to object, but at least he understood the next question. Whatever serum they had injected him with apparently made communication much easier.

"What is your species?"

He glared up at his captors with a single defiant eye, but said nothing.

One of the aliens leaned down and grabbed his chin in its large grubby hand. "What is your species," the creature growled. "We have administered more than enough of the translator serum. We know you can understand us!"

"Then tell me where my crew is," he said quickly.

The larger creature poked him with the electric prod several times in a row, and he screamed again in short unintelligible bursts. His vision began to blur in his left eye, and he vomited his lunch, which had been just a glass of water. Many times before he had regretted not having eaten a proper meal during the day, but this was not one of those times. Dazed his head lolled back against the crude headrest on the reclined platform.

The smaller creature sidled forward and thrust an object into his face. "You tell us how this works, or you die!"

Picard blinked and wrinkled his forehead attempting to focus on the blurry object. It was a tricorder. Did they think it was a weapon? "Why should I cooperate with you?" he pointed out. "You've done nothing but torture me so far. But… perhaps we can come to some sort of understanding," he said speaking as though he had the advantage, which he certainly did not.

"Hmmph," grunted the smaller creature, still holding the tricorder. "Like a deal? Like the Ferengi? But you don't look like a Ferengi."

Picard coughed. "What's a Ferengi?" he asked. Whatever a Ferengi was, these creatures were familiar with it—more familiar than they were with humans.

The creatures withdrew for a moment to talk with each other in hushed whispers. He strained to hear them, and heard the word "Ferengi" spoken several more times. The smaller creature, which he now could see was in charge, stepped toward him again. It waved the tricorder at him. "You tell us how this works, or we will kill one of _these_!" It flicked a switch on the wall and a view screen appeared. A group of men and women sat huddled together against a wall. His heart lifted briefly when he saw his first officer, who was alive, if not well with the others.

"You _leave_ my crew alone," he said, his jaw quivering with anger.

"You show us how this works…" the creature mocked him shaking the tricorder at him. "And then you show us how _this_ works…" the view screen blinked and an image of his ship appeared floating inside what appeared to be a black void. "Or all your people _die_," said the little one, shoving him in the chest.

His jaw tightened and he shifted his eyes back to the view screen. His ship…the _Stargazer_.

* * *

"Beverly, wait," Deanna Troi was out of shape and consequently out of breath. When her friend had called her and suggested they spend a relaxing day together, she hadn't expected a hike over a mountain. She had mentioned as much to Beverly Crusher, who had clarified that this was not a mountain, but simply a series of "hills".

"Deanna, we're almost there," Beverly said, laughing before taking a long drink from her water bottle.

Deanna exhaled puffing out her cheeks dramatically. "I am just wondering when the relaxing comes into play, Beverly. Now I know you have been burying yourself in work—"

"Oh, and you haven't?" Beverly said still amused, but with a slight challenge in her voice. "You're practically hyperventilating and you are still trying to counsel me," she said.

Deanna was still trying to think of something to counter that when a familiar chirp sounded from up ahead. She rolled her eyes. Of course Beverly had brought her communicator. For her part Beverly didn't exactly look happy about the interruption either. She also looked mildly surprised. "I told them not to bother me today, but do they listen?" she muttered before tapping the communicator which she had attached to one of the straps on her back pack. "Crusher here."

"Beverly, it's Will." Even hundreds of miles away the tone of his voice was highly tense. Beverly and Deanna exchanged worried glances. Beverly wiped the perspiration from her forehead with her sleeve. "Hi Will…Deanna's here with me."

"Good," he said, sounding somewhat relieved.

"Will, is everything alright?" Deanna interjected.

There was a pause. "No. Where are you two right now?"

"Colorado…Will what's going on?" Crusher demanded.

She could imagine him shaking his head. "I don't want to communicate this way," he said. "We need to meet in person. Meet me in Hawaii in 30 minutes?"

Beverly dropped her backpack and turned to look at Troi in shock. _Hawaii._ The only person she knew in Hawaii was Jean-Luc. They had been out of touch. She had tried, but had given up in angry frustration about a month earlier when he had refused to let her see him. He had been afraid to face her, but she had suspected more than just the usual avoidance of his feelings. He really had been afraid to let her see him. She looked at Troi again, unable to adjust her stunned expression.

"We're on our way," Troi answered for her.

* * *

**Hello, there. Yes a new story just came out of nowhere-flew out of my head last night. Looking forward to it. Thanks for your interest and for reading and reviewing!-PP**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

"I am no longer certain of the _profit_ of this endeavor, Bok," said Kad. "These Malkatans are stupid…and worse they are dangerous. All they care about is weaponry."

"Their greed is what I am relying on, Kad," sneered Bok. "Besides, as soon as you have documented that the job is finished, we will take our rental property back, and you can return home."

Kad bared his teeth. "The talents of a skilled broker such as myself are wasted on such primitive cultures, Bok. And you know the job has been finished…you said yourself he disappeared from our time, just as you said would occur."

"Confirm his death for me and I will bring you back."

"But—"  
"I want to see his body, Kad. That was part of the deal." Bok hit a button shutting off the view screen.

* * *

**2367 Enterprise (about four months ago)**

_Captain's Log: Stardate 44627.1 "A distress signal originating from an abandoned moon has drawn the Enterprise into the Maxia Zeta system, where after a thorough investigation, we have concluded that the signal has simply stopped without explanation. I must admit, that while I am satisfied with the completion of our short mission, I have mixed feelings about leaving the burial ground, so to speak, of my former ship the Stargazer."_

Captain Picard looked up at the sound of the door chime to his ready room. "Come," he said.

Beverly Crusher walked in and halted in front of his desk with a small smile covering something else in her eyes. Was it concern? "Captain," she said by way of greeting.

"Doctor," he said, returning her slight smile.

He watched as she moved closer and sat down on the edge of his desk, looking at him carefully. "How are you holding up?" she asked after a few moments.

He opened his mouth to say that he was fine, but seeing the probing but amused expression on her face, he closed it tightly and looked down at the desk. He supposed if he was going to be honest with anyone…. He cleared his throat. "Thank you for asking. It's strange," he said unable to keep the faraway look from his own eyes when he looked back up at her. "It feels as though I never left here…as though, if I had done something just slightly different that day, that I would be here on the Stargazer instead of the Enterprise." He laughed and shook his head looking back down at the desk. "As I said, it is strange. Perhaps I need to leave the past alone for once and for all." He got up from his desk and tugged at the edge of his uniform.

Beverly slipped off the desk and stood in front of him. "I like that idea. Because there is much more possibility when we live in the present."

He smiled at her in agreement. It was a moment he would later regret, because there was so much more he could have said. And because after that moment, his life very quickly began to fall apart.

* * *

"No, no, no! Will, I _refuse_ to believe that Jean-Luc would _ever_ take his own life!"

Crusher, Riker and Troi stood on the shuttle pad outside of the Imiloa Observatory on the Island of Hawaii. The shuttle pilot waited patiently inside the craft, but glanced out worriedly at the darkening sky. A tropical storm was brewing and a warm wind whipped through their hair and clothing as the officers continued their heated conversation.

Riker turned to Troi for assistance. "Normally we would both wholeheartedly agree with you, Beverly, but he _was_ extremely troubled following the incident four months ago," Deanna said.

Beverly shook her head. "I've seen him overcome worse."

"Yes, but remember that he closed himself off from every one of us in the last few months-even you, Beverly."

"Look, Deanna, I'm not ignoring the fact that he was going through some depression—frankly he was behaving so oddly that he hardly seemed like himself. But suicide? No…something has happened to him -he's disappeared. But that is all I will admit for now." She folded her arms over her chest, ignoring the fat raindrops that began to fall on her face. "And you're both just going to have to live with that," she added stubbornly.

"Fleet Security has given us permission to examine his home," said Riker. "...mostly because they knew you wouldn't take no for an answer, Beverly."

"You're damn right I wouldn't," she shouted over the howling wind.

Despite the somber moment, Riker smiled. "Good thing no one actually told you 'no' then." He looked up at the swirling clouds above them, and it was as if Mother Nature was mirroring the same anger and confusion they were all feeling in those moments. "Alright then… let's get out of here and head for the Captain's home before this pilot refuses to fly us anywhere." He gestured to the shuttle door.

Once inside, Riker sat down behind the pilot's seat while the two women settled down across from him. He couldn't put this off forever. He didn't want to hurt Beverly, or to shock her further. But they all needed to come to terms with the fact that the Captain was gone, whether by his own hand or not. Besides…the Captain had left the note for her. Feeling extremely anxious he reached into his pocket and pulled out a data pad. Taking a deep breath he reached slowly across the aisle, handing it to Beverly.

Her eyes immediately locked on the pad, and she took it carefully. _"My dearest Beverly—it has been several months since we last spoke, and of all things, of all people, you are never far from my mind—such as it is. I know now even in my…debilitated state, that I should have been honest with you about everything—everything that I feel for you. I understand if you have no room in your heart to forgive me. Perhaps things could have been different, if I had only had more courage. But now something terrible is happening to me, and I am afraid I do not have much longer—the weight of the crimes of my past has finally forced me to face the truth. And that is why I must end it all. I am truly sorry. All my love.—Jean-Luc."_

She read it to herself three times in a row. Then eventually Beverly looked up, feeling Riker's gaze. "The note has already been analyzed…it's his handwriting," Riker said softly.

Beverly looked down at the pad again silently. She placed the pad under her coat, and then squeezed her arms around her mid-section tightly, staring out the window of the shuttle as they began their ascent up into the clouds.

* * *

Cadet Wesley Crusher was beginning to doze off over his research project. It was late and he was tired; but more than that the subject matter did not engage him. It didn't matter; nothing seemed to matter as much as his life aboard the Enterprise had. And now that was all gone. He knew he had to adjust to his new life. And all of that would be fine…if only he could talk to Captain Picard. His mother had told him that eventually the Captain would come around—that he wasn't feeling well and was depressed. But then why wouldn't he allow anyone to see him—to help him? Wesley couldn't understand it. He tried to respect the Captain's privacy though, because he knew that is what the Captain wanted.

Instead, when he felt unsure, he would try and imagine the Captain giving him advice. In his imagination, Captain Picard would remind him of what was truly important, that he should focus his efforts on the things that mattered most to Wesley. But lately Wesley felt as though the things that truly mattered to him didn't exist anymore. Yawning, he shrugged and leaned back in his chair. His roommate Ben would be back soon and he figured he would have to either go to sleep or attempt not to be so depressed, so as to not freak Ben out.

It was a deep yawn and he closed his eyes tightly. When he opened them, he had to struggle not to fall backwards. In front of him, in the middle of his desk to be exact stood a familiar person. "Wh-what?"

"Hello, Wesley," said the Traveler. "It is not my wish to frighten you. But I come with a message."

Wesley stared wide-eyed at the grey-skinned time traveler. "Uh…."

"You must speak to your mother, Wesley. You must tell her that all is not lost," said the Traveler. "I will return soon Wesley. And then you must decide whether you will come with me. Logic will tell you that it is wrong, but this time you must come to trust your instincts. Goodbye, Wesley."

* * *

**Hope you enjoy. Thanks as always for reading and reviewing!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

**Mid-Year 2355**

He hesitated again before leaning forward to press the key pad. Then he sat back inside his personal communications area and stared straight ahead and clutched his hands tensely in his lap waiting it seemed for an eternity for the call to be accepted. Meanwhile, the internal communications console beeped to his right, and he quickly threw his hand to the side. _Dammit!_ His one attempt in months to attend to his personal life had already been interrupted. Slapping the control pad, his first officer's image appeared on the screen.

She twitched her left antenna toward him deferentially. "I am sorry to interrupt you, Captain, but you said that you wanted to be kept informed of our progress."

He nodded curtly. "Go ahead."

Both of her antennae twitched this time. "The propulsion tests are finished and we can disembark whenever you are ready, sir." Commander Zev said. Her Andorian politeness was a thin veneer covering a very fierce personality. She was completely loyal to him, the consummate professional, and that was why he could never be annoyed with her for long.

He smiled tightly. "Thank you, Zev. I shall join you on the bridge in fifteen minutes," he said quickly, before cutting the connection.

Turning forward again, he saw that the connection light was now blinking green on the forward screen.

"_I was so surprised to see it was you calling that I almost didn't answer,"_ Beverly Crusher said, just after her image appeared on his view screen. She paused, looking at him. _"Hello, Jean-Luc."_ He sucked in a quick breath, and tried not to gape at her. He hadn't seen her in person since Jack's funeral well over a year ago. She looked as beautiful as he had remembered. But the sadness he had seen in her face that day was now replaced by something else; a defiance, perhaps a coldness that had not been there before. In his mind he quickly began to retreat. Why was it again that he had decided to call her?

"Hello," he said gaining the courage quickly. "Beverly, I am truly sorry…of course you had written to me some time ago."

"_Yes. And you never responded."_ Her expression was bemused but she kept whatever wounds she had hidden from him.

"I'm sorry. It was inconsiderate of me…thoughtless really." It was a lie that it had been thoughtless, when in fact it had taken a great deal of thought, too much really, not to write back to her.

She raised her eyebrows and shook her head slightly. _"Don't be sorry, Jean-Luc. I suppose I am the one who should be sorry. I thought we could continue some kind of friendship after Jack died. Maybe I expected too much. Now I know I was mistaken."_

The hardness of her tone struck him deeply, but he knew he deserved that and more really. "I—I just wanted to let you know that the _Stargazer_ is going to be embarking on a deep space mission."

"_I know, Jean-Luc. I saw the news reports a few weeks ago," _she said. "_You do realize I'm still in Starfleet don't you?"_

"Yes of course," he said softly. He smiled nervously, but her expression remained detached as she waited expectantly for him to continue. A part of him wished she would simply crack a smile, or joke with him, but it was as if she had no intention of allowing him to see that part of herself anymore. Perhaps he had lost the right to see those things. He fell silent and just watched her for a few moments. She wasn't letting him get anywhere. He hadn't anticipated that this would be so difficult.

Maybe it was because he either waited too long to speak, or something else occurred to her, that she decided to continue to press her point. _"I saw some of the crew of the Stargazer at headquarters a few weeks ago,"_ she said. "_They said you had insisted they get some shore leave before the mission—that you had practically ordered them to take a vacation. But I didn't see you there, Jean-Luc."_

He cleared his throat. "There were repairs to be made—"

"_Oh, of __**course**__ there were. I'm not sure what makes me angrier; that you didn't show up, or that I actually wanted for you to be there." _For the first time her voice broke slightly and emotion shone behind her eyes.

They stared at each other in silence for a few more moments. His mechanical heart seemed to skip a beat. She had wanted to see him? "Beverly…I didn't call you to fight with you," he said quietly.

"_Then why __**did**__ you call me, Jean-Luc?"_

_I do believe I am in love with you, _he thought. Instead he said, "I wanted to ask you if it would be alright for me to visit you and Wesley once I return. I realize my actions have made that question a foolish one, but something is compelling me to still ask," he continued.

She stared at him with a stunned expression. _"When will you be done with the deep space mission?"_ she said after a moment.

"We expect to return within three months," he said. "So…there is plenty of time for you to decide between now and then."

She still seemed surprised by his request, and absently reached up to swipe a strand of hair away from her face. _"Why do you want to visit us?"_ The anger in her voice was gone and had been replaced by genuine curiosity and also something he could not pinpoint.

He stared at her, challenged by a very simple question. But he couldn't answer it; not all of it. "Beverly, you were not wrong to expect we could continue a friendship—I want to…be your friend," he said. "If you don't want me to come to your home, I understand…we can meet somewhere else, perhaps for lunch."

She bit her bottom lip and looked away from the screen. _"I don't know,"_ she said distantly. _"I have to think about it, Jean-Luc,"_ she said turning back to the screen. She forced a small smile. _"Why don't you call me again when you return, and we can talk about it then? Alright?"_

He tried to keep a smile on his face, but it faded gradually as she spoke. He had needed an answer from her, or some kind of sign—and until that moment he hadn't realized just how much. His insides felt as though they were flopping around. He was confused. Hadn't she said she had been disappointed that he hadn't come to Earth for shore leave recently? And now she couldn't even decide if she wanted to see him, leaving him to feel empty inside. "Alright," he agreed.

"_Goodbye Jean-Luc,"_ she said, reaching out to turn off the console. Her eyes met his one last time through the screen. "_Please be safe_?"

He nodded. "Of course."

* * *

Picard awoke again and to find that only one of his strange looking captors remained in the dank, dark room. He was still strapped tightly to the makeshift table and his hands and feet had fallen asleep. He painfully tried to move them in order to regain feeling. He was weaker than before, but all that did was increase his sense of urgency.

He turned his head to watch the alien who sat in front of some kind of view screen which appeared to be some kind of security monitor. He recalled having seen members of his crew on that screen, including his first officer Zev. If she was alright, then he knew they had a chance of escape. But she'd been hurt.

"I implore you again," he said hoarsely. "Not to harm my crew."

The creature turned around. "I am a Malkatan, and you are a prisoner. I make the rules not you," he growled and then turned back to watch the screen. "Besides…she got what was coming to her."

"What do you mean?" Picard demanded.

"The one with the horns broke the neck of the head of base security," said the Malkatan.

"She's an Andorian," Picard said. "That is how she reacts when mis-treated."

The guard said nothing. But Picard's hopes began to rise. He now knew the name of the race of creatures that had captured him—the Malkatans- he knew that at least some of his crew was still alive and capable of fighting back, and he knew he was trapped on some "base" of some kind. Information was power—in theory.

"How long have I been here?" Picard asked.

The guard paused. Should he tell the prisoner anything more? He didn't have to tell him anything. But Malkatans enjoyed the game of power, and the guard knew that this feeble creature was going to be put to death soon. The Ferengi trader had demanded it. So why not make him aware of some of the details? Could make his job a little more interesting. "Two days," said the guard. "Since you were trapped in the Net."

"Net?"

The guard turned around and bared his sharp yellow teeth. "Yes…the Singularity Net… don't you remember?"

Picard closed his eyes and it all came back in a rush….

* * *

**2355 The Maxia Zeta Sector Stardate ****40217.3**

"We are approaching the outer moon of Maxia Zeta IV, Captain," the helmsman announced.

"No stopping. Let's get this damn survey finished and get out of this sector," said Captain Picard, standing in the center of the bridge. "Brings back bad memories," he murmured to himself. The Maxia Zeta Sector was notable to him only for the location of Star Base 32, where he'd brought Jack's body after he was killed a little over a year ago.

Thinking of Jack made him think of Beverly, which in turn made him feel all kinds of things that he knew he shouldn't; except for the guilt. The guilt was acceptable. But lately he wondered whether holding onto so much guilt was healthy. In less than two weeks the _Stargazer_ would return to Earth, and he was anxious but excited to contact her again. He'd had months after their last conversation to think about the future, and for the most part he felt very positive.

"Holding steady on course, Captain," Commander Zev said.

"Prepare to run the sensor sweep," ordered Picard.

"Initializing," said the science officer. Almost immediately, a rapid beeping sound invaded the bridge.

"Report," demanded Picard.

"Intercepting ship approaching from behind the moon, Captain," Vigo shouted.

"Everyone calm down," snapped Picard. Were they not trained to handle a simple surprise? But why hadn't the sensors read the ship earlier?

"Have we seen this kind of ship before?" he said returning to sit in the captain's chair. A brown horse-shoe shaped ship moved toward them on an intercept course.

"No match for it in the records sir," said Vigo.

"Hail them," Picard said calmly. "No need to jump to any conclusions," he said. He hoped the strange ship would take the same advice.

Suddenly the incoming ship increased speed and veered toward them aggressively. "Captain the ship is firing!" shouted Vigo.

"Evasive Maneuvers!" It happened instantly. On the view screen the enemy ship disappeared and in its place was an expanse of completely black space. No light was visible.

"Warning…" the computer interrupted. "Gravitational containment fields have been compromised…warning…."

"Captain we are being pulled in?"

"Into where? Full reverse," shouted Picard. A moment later, the ship groaned, the lights went out and the instruments on the bridge stopped working. The shouts of the crew were the only sound, and then Picard and the others were thrown to the deck, unable to move from the overwhelming gravitational disruption. And then everything went black.

* * *

**Hawaii 2367**

"I'm sorry sirs, but visibility isn't too good, and I don't think I can get a clear landing area past this point," the pilot said, tilting his head back to address them. "But the Captain's house is not too far from here. Unfortunately, it's all uphill," he added.

Deanna Troi's eyes widened slightly as she gazed out the view port. _Gods…more hills_, she thought with trepidation. As they descended rapidly, there was some turbulence and her stomach dropped.

"That's fine, Lieutenant," Riker said. "Just set us down over there in that clearing and we'll take the rest of the way on foot."

Beverly Crusher took the data pad from inside her coat and looked at it. "I'm so sorry I gave up on you, Jean-Luc," she whispered. "Can you still hear me? I promise that I will find out what happened to you."

* * *

**Hi, thanks everyone for your interest and reviews. I like that some people are trying to guess the plot of this new story. So far you are not too far off, but you will have to wait in see. Glad you are into it. Take care! -PP**

**PS. Yes, I will be updating "A King Imprisoned" soon and finishing it later. Thanks so much for your continued interest.  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

After the Traveler had appeared and given him a cryptic message to deliver to his mother, Wesley had immediately tried to contact her. Earlier that day she had said she was traveling to Hawaii. She hadn't explained why, but he could only assume that she was going to try and visit Captain Picard again. He knew better than to interfere, but he hoped that the Captain would not turn her away as he had the last time, about a month ago.

His mother had been completely dismayed at the time, and it was then that Wesley recognized how much she really loved Captain Picard. So he didn't discourage her from trying again, but he also didn't want to see her hurt further. But once the Traveler arrived later that night when Wesley was dozing in between his studies, he learned that something serious was happening that involved his mother. The problem was, he still didn't know exactly what. Of course, he contacted her anyway—or at least attempted to. There was some kind of interference on the communications channel, which upon further investigation was probably due to a severe tropical storm circling above the big island of Hawaii where he knew his mother was located. Consequently, he hadn't been able to sleep the rest of the night.

This gave him difficulty the following morning as he sat in his Advanced Tactical class. He struggled to stay focused because of extreme fatigue, and his concern for his mother.

"Cadet Crusher!"

"Huh? Yes, yes," he said groggily, raising his bloodshot eyes to look at the instructor. "Sorry, sir."

"Late night, Mr. Crusher?" The professor raised an eyebrow indicating his irritation.

Wesley rubbed his eyes. "Um…sort of, sir. I'm sorry."

The professor turned his back to the class. "It's no matter, Mr. Crusher. But perhaps you can answer the question the rest of us have been pondering for the last few minutes while you've been daydreaming in the back of the class."

Wesley's face grew red with anger and embarrassment. He hadn't been daydreaming, he was just tired. But the problem was, the professor was partly right, because he hadn't heard the question. "Um…could you please repeat the question?" There was a murmur of laughter throughout the room, and Wesley felt his face grow even hotter.

"Name a defensive tactic that could effectively fool an enemy ship's sensors. And don't say projecting a holographic image," said the instructor. "Because we've already discussed that one." Wesley's classmates laughed again.

Wesley shrugged. Too easy. He used his hands to demonstrate. "Sure…when the enemy ship is approaching head on, you burst into maximum warp suddenly. The result is that your ship will appear for an instant to be in two places at once. In that instant, when the other ship's sensors are confused, you fire…."

The room hushed. Wesley glanced around him at astonished faces. The professor walked toward him slowly. "What a fascinating solution, Mr. Crusher. Now where exactly did you come up with that?"

Wesley laughed and looked around the room. The professor was really busting on him today. "The Picard Maneuver. Come on, everyone knows that…."

The professor seemed completely serious. "Actually, Cadet, I've never heard of such thing. And I've been teaching this class for thirty years. Now, where did you—"

Suddenly the door to the classroom opened, and all heads turned to see who it was. The professor backed up quickly, thoroughly surprised by his visitor. There was the sudden noisy racket of chairs moving and all students including Wesley now stood at attention. "Admiral Nechayev," said the professor. "To what do we owe this honor?"

"Official business," she said in her usual clipped tone. The class was dead silent as she quickly walked to the back of the room, ignoring the eyes flicking her way.

"Mr. Crusher," she said, letting a small smile crack her stern expression if only briefly. "It is good to see you again."

"Likewise, sir," he said quickly.

Her expression grew serious. "Come with me, Mr. Crusher. We have more important business to discuss today than warp theory."

"Actually, Admiral this is the Advanced Tactical class," said the professor.

Nechayev's head snapped around to look at the professor as though he were the lowest form of life she had ever seen. "Thank you for the clarification, but that is equally unimportant." She nodded at Wesley. "Come along young man."

* * *

The rain was torrential. Forty-five minutes into their hike, Deanna Troi slipped on the muddy hillside for the fourth time. Grabbing a tree root, she pulled herself up, scrambling to catch up with the others. "It's just up ahead!" shouted Beverly. She had been to Picard's home, and so she had taken the lead.

Beverly halted and turned to look back down at them from a plateau up ahead. Like Will and Deanna, she was covered in mud and water ran in rivulets through her hair and down her face. She pointed back over her shoulder. "Come on," she encouraged them as Riker helped Troi the rest of the way up the slope.

There was a rather large clearing, a small vegetable garden and several rows of what appeared to be tiny grape vines. Everything was very orderly. Just as you would expect of Captain Picard.

"He was growing a vineyard up here?" Riker wiped mud out of his beard and stared around him.

Beverly smiled slightly. "Yes…he was planning to…of course he'd only been here three months. He said the volcanic soil combined with the high altitude here actually had the potential for good cultivation." She stared at the green vines with a distant expression.

Lightning flashed overhead and the wind was picking up, reminding them that it wasn't safe to stay outside much longer. Riker put his hand on Beverly's arm. "Come on," he said leading her toward the house.

Troi had gone quiet and she hesitated behind them, trying to sense something, anything coming from the house. _He's gone_, she thought sadly. _Something very horrible has happened to him, and now he is gone._

* * *

Once alone with Nechayev in her office, Wesley tried to appear he was not intimidated, but he knew it wasn't working. It didn't matter though, because Nechayev was focused on something more important. "Have you been in communication with your mother?"

"I tried, sir, but there was a lot of interference."

"Ah yes, the tropical storm," she said, sitting down and gesturing for him to do the same. "Try again in a few hours, Crusher, the storm will be passing soon enough."

He nodded and then sat down slowly, waiting for her to speak again.

"I've known Jean-Luc Picard for a long time, Wesley. Since he was a young man in fact. And despite my…unpleasant exterior I am quite fond of him. Yes…very fond indeed," she said with a small smile.

Wesley's eyes widened but he wisely said nothing.

She leaned forward. "And so, I know for a fact that he had a very good reason for what he did out there. He would _never_ have destroyed the star drive section unless absolutely necessary."

"Yes, sir," Wesley agreed. He had never doubted that there must be a reason. But the question still remained, what was it?

"And I also know Wesley that he would never commit suicide; which is no doubt why your mother has gone to Hawaii to investigate. She doesn't believe it either. I have always held your mother in very high regard, Wesley, I want you to know that."

Wesley stood up with his hands over his mouth. "Sui—suicide?"

Nechayev gestured for him to sit back down. "It's _alright_, my dear boy, I just told you…he did not take his own life. But he has disappeared."

Wesley felt tears filling his eyes, and he struggled not to fall apart. He couldn't believe it. Was Captain Picard dead? "He's disappeared? What happened?"

"We don't know. But I want you to know that the official story—that he killed himself, is not the truth. There are many in the Fleet who used to think Picard could walk on water…until Wolf 359 earlier this year. After that, he lost many supporters. And so it wasn't a difficult leap for those who were no longer on the Picard bandwagon to presume that he had cracked up when he sent the star drive to its ruin four months ago. And when he disappeared just a few days ago, it was easy for them to assume that he had, in his disgrace, committed suicide. Many people believe that Picard felt guilt for what happened when he was captured by the Borg."

"He did," Wesley said, looking up at her. "He felt responsible, sir."

She smiled sadly. "I know." She looked down for a few moments. "Wesley…in the last few days, four other members of Picard's former Stargazer crew disappeared without explanation."

"Like Captain Picard," said Wesley.

"Yes. And something else very concerning has happened. Today there were three attacks on three different smaller star bases in various corners of the Alpha Quadrant. In each attack, every single living thing on the base was slaughtered. The stations were stripped of their weapons and any mobile technology. In total we lost 285 lives. The attackers left without a traceable vessel of any kind."

Wesley was in shock. "The Borg?"

"No, we don't think so. But as you know the Borg decimated our fleet. We cannot sustain another raid Wesley. It will mean the end of Starfleet as we know it. And without Starfleet, the Federation has no cohesive line of defense."

"You think the attacks are somehow related to Captain Picard's disappearance?"

"I do. I believe that there must be a connection. But I have no proof."

Wesley quickly told her about the Traveler's visit. He told her about the fact that no one in class seemed to have remembered the Picard Maneuver. Afterwards she stood up and shook his hand slowly.

"Foul play is at work here Mr. Crusher… we must use caution, but we must be brave as well."

* * *

"Lights, forty percent," Riker called out. The three officers stood still inside Picard's small kitchen. Riker knew the details. He knew that it had happened here at this small kitchen table. A type I phaser had been discharged at its highest setting, and there had been no visible trace of his body. The top half of the chair he had been sitting in had disintegrated. On the floor, the rest of the chair lay presumably as the investigators had found it.

Beverly silently took out her tricorder and began to scan the area slowly. Her expression was unreadable, but Riker knew she must be going through hell.

"His DNA is present…everywhere in this room," said Beverly finally breaking the silence. "But I'm picking up traces of cells from other living beings as well. It's going to take me a while to sort out distinct signatures."

Deanna stared at her friend. She was behaving as though she was examining an alien expanse on an away team mission. She was detached, which Deanna knew was a protective façade that would only hold for so long.

Deanna tried to piece a scenario together in her mind. What must he have been thinking or feeling?

Riker scratched his head. The mud was beginning to dry, but he was otherwise soaked. Thunder and lightning crashed outside and the wind howled. He should have thought this through more carefully. They weren't going to be able to leave this house tonight. The house that Captain Picard had died in. He turned to find he was alone with Deanna. He looked at her questioningly. "Where'd she go?"

Deanna pointed into what they both presumed was Captain Picard's bedroom.

Riker raised his palms and shook his head as if to say, "I'm not going in there."

"Me neither," Deanna mumbled in response to his non-verbal statement. "Let's give her a few minutes alone and then I will go and check on her."

Riker nodded. "We're stuck here for the night or at least until this storm passes. I'm going to see if there is a replicator somewhere."

* * *

Beverly sat on the edge of Jean-Luc's bed. It was very neatly made, just as he would have done. She looked around the room and saw that as usual he lived a Spartan existence. A pair of worn boots sat in the corner of the room and several books were stacked on a nearby shelf. A small computer sat on a desk nearby, but that was the extent of his furnishings.

Her tricorder beeped and she knew it had successfully sorted out the DNA signatures of anyone who had been in that kitchen recently, including her, Will, and Deanna. She opened it up and read through the list. There had only been three investigators according to Will. Of course she couldn't be sure of any visitors he had welcomed within the last few days, but if he was suicidal, he wouldn't have invited anyone to his home recently. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw one signature that stood out in particular. Ferengi. A Ferengi stood inside Jean-Luc's kitchen sometime in just the last few days. Why?

For some reason she decided to pull out the note written on the data pad again. She read it carefully, and this time the words seemed to sink in. Something was not right about the second half of what he had written. He had said that something terrible was happening to him. And then he had said he had decided he could no longer live with his crimes. What crimes? Even if he still felt guilt over his capture by the Borg and the violence that had followed…even if he felt he had in a sense committed a crime by destroying the star drive of the Enterprise, he wasn't so dramatic as to say something like that. It may have been his handwriting but it didn't sound like his voice. Her mind began to race and she had to tell herself to calm down.

Beverly's tricorder suddenly buzzed and she opened it up. There was a message on the small screen. _"Mom, I heard about Captain Picard. Please don't give up. All is not lost. Love, Wesley."_

Emotion overcame her suddenly like an unstoppable wave. She snapped the instrument shut and finally felt tears welling up and streaming down her face. She wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed tightly, rocking back and forth silently as she cried.

* * *

**2367 San Francisco**

"You have no interest in the initiative to re-build the _Enterprise_, Geordi?"

LaForge shrugged and leaned back against the hover bike he was working on. "Of course I do…but I've got mixed feelings, Data."

"Are feelings something that must be kept separate from each other, Geordi?"

"No, Data, I just mean there can only be one _Enterprise_. I'm just not sure I have gotten over it yet…you know that warp core was like my baby—it's a loss for me; for all of us."

Data moved to sit down on a bench inside Geordi's makeshift engineering lab. He watched as the former Chief Engineer resumed work on his hover bike. "I was not aware that you viewed the propulsion systems of the Enterprise as your progeny, Geordi," Data observed.

Laforge looked up briefly. "I'll get over it."

"Why do you think the Captain made the decision he did?" Data asked thoughtfully.

Geordi sighed. "Which decision? Causing the warp core breach on purpose or destroying the star drive section when warp core ejection failed?" He pried at a component underneath the bike and his hand slipped. "Ow!" he yelled. He pulled himself up and looked at Data over the bike. "Data, why are we re-hashing all of this?"

Data tilted his head. "It is merely that…I am still puzzled by the Captain's conduct on that day."

"You and me both—in fact, probably everyone who was there that day is still wondering why he did what he did. I'm not sure it matters anymore anyway…I mean look at what has happened to Captain Picard in the last few months. They ran him out of Starfleet, and now he's living on some secluded mountainside. I really feel for the man."

Data frowned in apparent confusion at his friend's words, and then his communicator suddenly chirped. He tapped his chest. "Data here."

"Data, it's Doctor Crusher," came a familiar voice. Geordi's head shot up from behind the bike again. His forehead creased in surprise. "I…need your expertise. I need you to examine something for me."

"Of course, Doctor. Would you like to explain further—"

"No, Data. I can't talk right now. Look, I'll meet you at Headquarters tomorrow morning at 0930. And bring Geordi."

"Yes, Doctor."

* * *

**Hello, thanks for continuing to read** **and review. Hope you enjoy this installment. I know the time period stuff jumps around a bit, but I am sure it will become clearer as we go on, so bear with me. I also wish everyone a very peaceful Martin Luther King Day. -PP**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

"I'm okay, Wesley," his mother's scratchy image appeared on the screen of his personal viewer. "Thank you so much for your message. But I'm _alright_—I'm with Will and Deanna and I will be back in town tomorrow morning," she reassured him.

Wesley laughed, feeling very relieved. "That's great, Mom. I just…I'm not sure what's going on around here. There've been some strange things here at school…and then Admiral Nechayev pulled me out of class this morning."

"What? Whatever for?"

"I'll...it will be better if I explain later in person. It's just that things are changing, Mom. And I think it's because of Captain Picard."

His mother's expression turned grim instantly. "What do you mean, Wes?"

"I know he's disappeared Mom. And whatever happened to him has really messed up time…somehow."

"Time?"

Wesley pressed on, knowing that this conversation was not going to end well. "Last night the Traveler came to visit me. He wants me to go with him. I think he wants me to help set thing_s _right_-"_

"No!WesleyRobert Crusher, don't you _dare_ go anywhere before I return. That's it… I'm on my way home."

"Mom, it's not even safe to travel yet. "I'll be alright. Besides, I'm seventeen now Mom. I can figure these things out for myself."

"Like hell! Let the Traveler figure things out without you Wesley. At least until I get home. We'll figure this out together."

"Mom…."

"You may be seventeen, but you're still my child, Wesley. And I'm not going to lose you too."

"You're not going to lose me, Mom. I promise."

* * *

"How is she doing?" Riker looked up as Troi entered Picard's small living room. He rubbed his hands on his knees and moved to the side to allow her room to sit down.

Deanna smile weakly and leaned back against the back of the couch, covering her face with her palms briefly. "She's very strong. Almost too strong. At times you would think that nothing much of anything has happened. But once I leave the room, the shield drops. The only thing that is keeping her together right now, Will, is the drive to find out what happened to the Captain."

Riker leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. "Deanna, this isn't going to end well. He's been missing for five days now. Wouldn't there have been some sign—something if he was still alive?"

Deanna looked at him. "Is that what you are waiting for Will? Some kind of sign."

He looked down at the floor tiredly. "Maybe." He turned his head to look at her. "You think I'm selfish, don't you? That I want closure."

"I didn't say that," she said.

He stood up. "You didn't have to."

"Do you blame yourself?" she asked.

"The stubborn son of a bitch wouldn't let anyone visit him, Deanna! Even the woman he loves," he said more loudly than he intended to. He glanced anxiously toward the door. "He even turned Beverly away," he said more quietly.

Deanna looked up at him. "Will…this isn't just about what you could have done—what you might have done, is it? You feel guilty about moving on. But Will, we _all_ feel guilty. I'm afraid I can't give you permission to move on any more than I can do the same for myself."

He sank back down on the couch next to her. "It's not even just that. Beverly is going to want to keep going with the hope that he's alive. But Deanna, I feel inside that he's really dead. Is she going to hate me when I take command of the _Aldrin_ in ten days?"

Deanna shook her head. "I honestly don't know. But a better question might be: are you going to hate yourself?"

* * *

Wesley was so restless that he went out for a walk later that evening. He saw one of his friends and stopped to talk for a few minutes. Did he want to go and see the new holo-vid that just came out? No, he made up some excuse not to. He wasn't in the mood. Everyone seemed oblivious to what was happening around them. And so he walked through campus until it grew dark. He stopped and looked out into the bay, as night fell. He should have been surprised to see the Traveler standing on top of the waves, but too much had happened recently to surprise poor Wesley.

The illuminated figure floated toward him until he was standing right next to him on the warm pavement. "Have you given any thought to my invitation, Wesley?"

Wesley tried to appear as calm as possible. "Yes," he said. "I'm just a little hesitant because I talked to my Mom and…well she forbid me to go with you."

"This is not surprising to me. But there is little time to spare, Wesley."

"Can you have me back here before she gets home tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"And will we be able to stop what's happening?"

The Traveler hesitated. "So you have observed this phenomenon for yourself…."

"I was in Advanced Tactics today, and the whole class seemed to have forgotten about the Picard Maneuver."

"Fascinating," said the Traveler.

"But why? Why would I still remember the Picard Maneuver? Why would Admiral Nechayev remember it…."

"Is there a particular connection between you and Admiral Nechayev that you can think of?"

Wesley shrugged. "She said she's known him for a long time…and that she was fond of him—that came as a surprise, believe me," Wesley said.

"Wesley do you recall that when we first met we discussed the concept of time—that time and the power of the mind are interwoven?"

Wesley nodded.

"Time is no more constant than your mind, Wesley. Think of yourself as being encircled by a sphere of awareness. You are intensely aware of the things and people which are important to you. One of those people is Captain Picard. Your instructor on the other hand is aware of Captain Picard academically, perhaps he has seen him from a distance a few times, and reads news reports. But he is perhaps less aware of Picard than you are."

"But that doesn't mean the Captain doesn't exist to the professor."

"Or perhaps it is simply that he exists less to the professor than he does to you."

Wesley was skeptical. "Just because he's less aware of the Captain?"

The Traveler smiled. "Time is not constant, Wesley. And neither is the mind," he repeated.

Wesley was growing frustrated. "But what would be causing him to…fade from our consciousness?"

"Captain Picard has not yet been forgotten Wesley. But it is unclear how long that will be the case. As I indicated last night, Wesley, something terrible has happened. But there is still hope."

"What has happened? Mom went to investigate whether he's committed suicide or not. Do you know the truth?"

"I know something of the truth. But I am incapable of undoing what has been done in the past."

"The past? Did he disappear into the past?"

"Not exactly, Wesley. But it is certainly true that he did not commit suicide."

Wesley broke into an involuntary smile. "So he's not dead. I can tell Mom then."

"No, Wesley, I am afraid that Captain Picard was indeed killed."

Wesley almost didn't feel himself fall into a sitting position on the ground. He looked up at the Traveler, wishing that he hadn't heard those words, and wishing even more that he didn't now suddenly understand. "Someone killed him…but in the past. Is that why he disappeared?"

The Traveler nodded and held out his hand to Wesley. "And now Wesley, are you ready to see what must be undone?"

* * *

**Hello there...next chapter soon to follow...**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

* * *

Wesley was only there for an instant. He floated above a scene unfolding in deep space. Two tiny ships, one recognizably Ferengi, the other an older Constellation Class Federation Starship. The _Stargazer_! The Ferengi ship was headed on a collision course. It fired once and missed. But then the _Stargazer_ suddenly disappeared without warning. The Ferengi ship turned and went into high warp….

Wesley sat up in his bed, gasping for air. For an instant he'd been in a vacuum, and now he was back in his dorm room. He glanced frantically around the room, but the Traveler was nowhere to be found. "Was that **_it_**?"

* * *

**2355 Inside The Malkatan Base **

"Let us…deal," the Ferengi named Kad said with a leering smirk.

The Malkatan General Uhn narrowed his already tiny eyes. The Ferengi were always offering one kind of "deal" or another. He had no reason to trust Kad over Bok, but Kad was here, and Bok was not. Therefore, Kad could be used more easily. "We want Picard alive as long as possible," said Unh in his slow deep voice. "If his engineers continue to refuse to show us the ways to use their weaponry, he can be used as leverage. We must learn all of the uses of their weaponry, and then he can die. Our learning is too slow" he admitted. "And so Picard must live a little longer to fulfill our needs."

Kad rubbed his tiny hands together with excitement. "Bok wants to see his body. That doesn't mean Picard needs to be exactly…dead, when he sees the body, General. Trust me, Bok is so blinded by the need for revenge that he will see what he wants to see."

Unh wobbled his dark blue jowls in agreement. "This plan is feasible," he agreed.

Kad giggled with glee. "But it will need to be convincing. He must appear as…deceased as possible."

"That can be arranged," said Unh, gesturing for one of his guards. "Guard, go and prepare the prisoner for the viewing."

* * *

**2367 Montana**

Riker kicked a stone down the side of the barren hill casually and watched it tumble. A tiny shuttle craft waited nearby. He'd flown it personally, by himself, as he was in no mood for company. Not even Deanna's. He wasn't familiar with this new project, aside from the fact that his father was in charge of it. But then, his father was always the one in charge. "Dad," he said softly as though talking to himself.

His father stood up from the terraforming equipment he was inspecting and squinted into the sunlight at Will. "Son," his father said in greeting. "I'm not even going to ask how you found me. So hard to be elusive with all of this technology we're tied to."

Riker stood very still. "I thought you might call me, Dad...when I lost my ship..."

His father leaned against a turbine and looked at his son. "It's not like you to wallow in it, Will. You've got to get back out there and show them what you've got."

Riker kicked another stone. "Is that all you've got for me, Dad? The same sorry clichés?"

His father laughed. "What I had was never good enough for you, was it Will?"

"Good enough? Dad you were never there!"

His father waved him off. "I'm sorry Will. How many times do you need to hear it? What else do you want me to say?"

"Something real, Dad. Something true...for once no bullshit, okay?"

Kyle Riker shrugged. "You're obviously struggling with something son. What happened out there?"

Riker exhaled loudly. "We lost the ship, that's what."

"And what else did you lose? The word is that Picard lost that calm coolness he always displayed Will. Word is that he lost his mind out there."

"That's not how it happened..."

"Maybe the real problem is that you found out that your replacement father figure just wasn't the perfect man you needed him to be, Will." He shook his head. "I guess that would be the second time that's happened to you since I first walked out on you as a teen, isn't that right, son?" He smiled. "Or maybe the third after that incident with the Borg earlier this year."

His smile faded a bit as Riker clenched his fist and took a halting step forward. "Why are you such an asshole, Dad?"

"Why does it matter? You're a grown man, Will. Act like one." Father and son watched each other for a few tense moments and then Will laughed derisively and craned his neck to stare up at the sky. His father shook his head. "Why did you come here today, Will? Not just to bust my balls…."

Riker rubbed his beard. "I need advice...direction..."

Kyle Riker laughed as though that was the most absurd thing he had ever heard. "From_ me_? Why not ask Picard? I bet he's never steered you wrong Will...at least not like your dear old dad."

Riker picked up a stone and muttered something to himself before throwing it back over his shoulder.

"What? I didn't catch that," said his father, walking closer.

"I said, I can't ask him anymore," Will muttered, staring down at the gravel beneath his feet.

"Why?" When Will didn't meet his gaze, he stepped forward.

"He's lost his mind hasn't he? That's why you can't ask him-"

"He's dead, Dad!" Riker shouted then looked away quickly. "He's dead," he repeated quietly. For the first time since finding out about Picard his anger and had given way to sadness.

Kyle Riker scuffed his foot in the dirt. "I'm sorry, son, I hadn't heard." Riker stared off silently across his father's latest terraforming project. Why had he come? Eventually his father cleared his throat and Will 's gaze fell sharply on him again. "So...What did you need advice on?" his father prompted.

"They're offering me my own command again."

His father's face crinkled into a smile. "That's a good thing then."

"I know," said Riker. "But this wasn't how I wanted it."

He studied his son's face. "Look, I'd hate to see you pass up a promotion because of guilt, Will. That's not how we do things in our family."

Will leveled a piercing stare at his father. _Family?_ "No, Dad, that's not how _you_ do things. I'm different," he said hooking his thumb into his chest.

His father scowled. "You'd like to keep believing that wouldn't you? But you'll take that offer, I know you will. Besides, with Jean-Luc Picard gone, what's to stop you now?"

Will looked at him squarely. "Nothing."

* * *

**2355**

"Do not struggle human," said General Unh. Picard raised his head weakly to stare at his abductor. "Yes, I know who and what you are now. And we will do with you as we please. But first we must put on a little show for Bok."

Bok? Who was Bok? Picard tried to speak but his swollen tongue would not allow for a sound to escape from his mouth. He needed water. He had begged for it, in fact. But they couldn't hear his gulps for air which passed for speech. Nor did they care to listen.

The Malkatans were very strong, and he had no strength left; so they simply tossed him to the hard floor. He immediately tried to get up and suffered from a kick to his empty stomach. "Damage him," ordered General Unh. "But not too much. We want the appearance of death, not the real thing," he said. "Ten minutes, and I will expect you in the communications room."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

* * *

**2367 Sausalito**

Data walked up to Geordi's front door, just as the former engineer opened it and stepped out. "Hey," said Geordi, tugging at his brown leather jacket. "How do you like my new look, Data?" He spread his arms out wide and grinned.

"Good morning, Geordi," said Data. "If by 'new look' you mean the covering you are currently wearing, which is made of imitation animal hide…."

Geordi made a face, as he walked by his friend. "Yeah," he sighed. "That's what I mean, Data." He brightened though when he saw his hover bike. He glanced back at Data. "Ready?"

Data looked at the bike closely. "What type of propulsion system have you installed on this vehicle, Geordi?"

Geordi grinned. "Ion drive."

"And the fuel source?"

"Paralithium of course," said Geordi.

Data frowned. "This hover bike has the potential to be highly combustible, Geordi."

"Data, it's completely legal, I promise."

"Nevertheless it is hardly within acceptable safety parameters for a terrestrial vehicle."

Geordi got onto the bike and powered it up. The whine from the single engine sounded slightly off, he had to admit. He gave his friend a knowing look. "Data is this your way of saying you're scared to take a test drive with me?"

Data opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it abruptly. "No," he said, jumping gracefully onto the back of the bike.

"Geordi?"

"_What?"_ Geordi asked over his shoulder. He could barely hear anything over the piercing whine. It occurred to him that this racket could actually come in handy if Data decided he wanted to talk the entire time.

"Is it not odd that Doctor Crusher contacted me to change the location of our meeting place?"

"How so, Data?" Geordi put his helmet on with a click.

"If she wished to be more discreet, why would she choose to meet in downtown San Francisco, away from Headquarters?"

Geordi shrugged. "Data, sometimes when you're around more people, it's easier to get lost in the crowd."

"And you believe she wishes to be…lost?"

"I _believe_ she wants us to get a move on, so let's go, Data."

* * *

**2355**

His breath came in gasps as they dragged him down the hall by his feet. He tried to fling his arms out more than once and unsuccessfully dug his fingers into the slick floor, trying to stop his momentum. His head thudded dully against the floor. They were dragging him to his death, he knew it. He had no intention of dying though, despite his sorry state.

He stopped struggling and let his palms just graze the floor as they dragged him quickly along. Very weak, he closed his eyes and imagined he was languidly running his fingers gently over Beverly's skin. Any guilt he had felt prior to his capture, just weeks before returning to Earth to see her had completely evaporated. The guilt was gone only to be replaced by dreamlike fantasies, each one involving Beverly Crusher. There were so many things he had wanted to do to her, with her that he now would never be able to do. Because he was going to die in this place. But not yet. And so until then he had the freedom inside of his mind to think of her in any way he wanted without reality interfering. And in his mind she would always want him. Always.

* * *

**2367 San Francisco**

Beverly Crusher looked tired and anxious as she waited a Union Square amongst the throngs of people wandering by, or gathered together laughing and talking. In contrast to the crowds around her she seemed world weary and very well-traveled.

Geordi slowed when he spotted her and pulled up to a stop on the hover bike. The doctor was clearly distracted as she waved them over. She held something clutched in her hand and walked swiftly up as they approached.

Data slid off the back of the bike and then Geordi powered the bike down. It gave a thunderous sigh as the engine cut out, and Geordi eyed it with measure concern. Then he smiled and turned to Beverly, giving her a hug. "Hi Doc!" Beverly returned his hug quickly. Then pulling back to get a look at his jacket, she noted with amusement that LaForge seemed to be attempting to change his image. She loved his innocence and silliness which was not well-masked by his new coat. Still she could not resist a comment. "Nice jacket, Geordi…really sexy," she added, keeping a straight face.

LaForge blushed and glanced at Data as if to say "see?"

Data raised an eyebrow and then glanced at the data pad in Crusher's right hand. "Is that what you would like me to examine, Doctor?"

Crusher grew serious again. "Yes. It's a note. According to Starfleet Security Jean-Luc wrote it before he...before he disappeared," she said, unable to say the words she was told applied to Jean-Luc's situation. She didn't believe it, so she refused to say it. Geordi and Data exchanged wordless glances.

Reluctant to part with the data pad, she handed it slowly to Data. He looked at it closely and then ran his index finger carefully over the writing. When he was finished he flipped the tip of the same finger up and plugged the port into his tricorder. "This will take a few moments," he said, handing the pad to LaForge.

Geordi held the pad up to his visor for almost of a full minute as he scanned it. "Something's definitely not right here, Doc."

Data nodded, punching something delicately into his tricorder. He looked up at her. "Geordi is correct, Doctor Crusher. A device was used to duplicate the Captain's handwriting in the last 117 characters of his note," said Data.

Beverly read the last part of the note again: "_the weight of the crimes of my past has finally forced me to face the truth. And that is why I must end it all. I am truly sorry. All my love.—Jean-Luc."_

She stared up at them with a look of exhilaration. "I _knew_ he didn't write that," she declared.

Data and Geordi both nodded supportively but said nothing. There was a suddenly a loud beeping alarm, and they all looked at the medical tricorder attached to Beverly's hip. She grabbed it and opened it in one fluid motion. She looked up. "My God, it's him! It's Jean-Luc's ID signature." Frantically her eyes searched the crowd.

Data held up his tricorder. "The Captain's identification signature is located inside that vehicle," he said and pointed to a sleek silver car floating just a meter over the street. If there were windows they were the same silver as the rest of the vehicle. They started toward it, and immediately it accelerated, speeding off. Alarmed pedestrians scattered out of the way.

LaForge followed Beverly's gaze to his bike in alarm. "Oh I don't know about this, Doctor—"

"Get on, or I'm leaving without you, Geordi," she yelled, rushing toward the bike. Swearing under his breath, LaForge jumped on the bike and Beverly settled in behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. The ion drive powered up quickly with that disturbing whine again.

"Data, how fast can you run?" Beverly asked turning back to look at Data.

Data paused and was about to say that his rate of speed on foot had never been recorded. But just as he opened his mouth to speak, LaForge and Crusher sped off.

* * *

**Minutes later...**

Geordi staggered onto the rocky shore, and pushed his hover bike up against the sheer side of a boulder. "Jesus, that bike was never intended to cross an ocean bay," he gasped, holding his hand over his pounding heart. Sea water dripped from his Visor.

"When you believe in miracles…." murmured Beverly, pulling out a small phaser from her pocket, and climbing away from him over the craggy landscape. LaForge looked after her and then shook his head in amazement.

He shivered remembering the bike skimming the blue-grey waves. "We could have died—scratch that, I mean you almost killed me," he corrected himself, following behind her.

"You were driving," she shouted back a reminder.

He looked far above them at a sign along a carefully constructed tourist pathway. _**"Welcome to The Island of Alcatraz, Former United States Federal Penitentiary 1933-1963."**_

"United States? Man this place is old," Geordi muttered.

"There!" Beverly pointed upward. The silver car they had been tailing was crashed against the shore, and two figures scrambled up the hillside, one in pursuit of the other.

"Data!" they both shouted at the same time.

"How the hell?"

* * *

**Minutes later….**

Geordi and Beverly stood chests heaving, watching Data, who had captured a Ferengi, the driver of the sleek silver car.

"What is your name?" Data asked, still tightly holding the Ferengi by the shirt collar.

The Ferengi hesitated. "Quam," he said un convincingly, rolling his eyes up at the android. Data glanced downward.  
"Then why does it read 'Property of Kad' on the inside of your collar?" Data inquired. Ferengi were notorious for marking their property. And yes, Data could read Ferengi.

"Unless, your shirt is _stolen_," Geordi chimed in, as he and Beverly approached, still breathing hard. Ferengi were just as notorious for taking high offense at being accused of stealing.

"No! It is mine," the cornered Ferengi insisted grasping the lapel of his own coat. "I am no thief!"

"Good… then you're just a liar," said Geordi.

Kad hissed at LaForge.

Beverly looked back at the silver car and then met Data's gaze. "Did you search the car?" she asked.

Data nodded. "I am afraid there were no other passengers, Doctor."

Beverly nodded but stepped closer to the cowering Ferengi. "Listen, Quam or Kad or whatever your name is..." said Crusher. "We _know_ that you are carrying something that doesn't belong to you. Something that belongs to a Starfleet Officer," she snapped. "Now hand it over," she demanded, holding her hand out palm up.

Kad clenched his hands near his torso and narrowed his eyes, running his tongue over his sharp teeth. "I don't negotiate with females..."

"Who said anything about negotiation?" She said leaning in toward him in a threatening manner.

LaForge put a restraining hand on her arm. "It's okay, Doc," Geordi said softly.

"No it's not," she said with quiet anger.

"We are quite capable of alerting the authorities, Kad," said Data.

The Ferengi stared at him with his eyes bugging out. "Alert the authorities?" He glanced from Data to Laforge to Crusher and back to Data. "Alert them to what?"

"You mean about how you came to be in the possession of the property of a Starfleet Officer?" said Beverly. "Now let's see it, Kad," she said sharply.

Beginning to snivel, the Ferengi reached inside his coat and pulled out a small object. The sunlight glinted off it as he clutched it in his small fingers. Was it Jean-Luc's communicator?

Beverly took in a sharp breath. She suddenly felt as though the world was spinning around her. She reached out her hand, as tears came to her eyes. "Let me—let me see it," she whispered.

Kad snatched his hand back. "I told you it is mine," he hissed again. "I bought it at auction."

Beverly suddenly stomped on Kad's foot, sending the object shooting from his grasp with a pained cry. Data caught it swiftly and then dropped it carefully into Beverly's hand. When she opened her hand to look at it, her heart fell immediately. "It's the older style badge. It's not a communicator, but contains a type of homing device."

"It is not just any badge, Doctor," Data said. "Despite its age, it _is_ Captain Picard's badge."

"_What?"_ she whispered.

All eyes fixed on Kad. "Please! Whatever you do, do not send me back there! They will surely kill me this time!" he pleaded gesturing at a hideous, fresh scar on his face.

"Perhaps it is time for you to begin talking then," said Data.

* * *

**Hello, thanks for reading and reviewing. Hope you enjoy. -PP**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

* * *

**2355 Malkatan Base**

"Is he unconscious?" the Malkatan General Unh asked, turning as his guards dragged the sorry looking alien into the communications room. They had learned from the Ferengi that these captives referred to themselves as "humans".

"No, he keeps mumbling things we cannot understand," the lead guard grunted. "It seems he is not in his right mind. The rest of his crew seems to be experiencing disorientation as well. The lack of food hasn't helped either. He is delirious."

"Give him something to eat later so he doesn't die. But let's see if he behaves himself first," added the General. He walked to the communications console and let his hand hover over the connection button. Distracted by something his guard told him he turned back to look at the prisoner. Something occurred to the General then. "The fact that the humans continue to suffer from disorientation indicates this Singularity Net has potential beyond just being an effective trap to capture new weapons," he said slowly. "In time it could be developed as a weapon in and of itself. In time…." He repeated breaking into an ugly smile.

"But General, we have to return it to the Ferengi, Bok. It _is _only a rental after all," said one of his officers.

The General turned on him threateningly, but instead of exhibiting violence, his smile grew. "You are correct."

He leaned in toward Picard and grabbed the human under the chin with his meaty blue hand. The human opened one bloodshot eye and then closed it again, continuing his nonsensical rambling. "They _are_ hideous, aren't they?" General Unh remarked to no one in particular. "But I admit that I like their weapons very much," he said letting go of the prisoner roughly. He straightened his coat which was beginning to strain at the seams around the middle from his girth. Like most Malkatans he was rather short and stocky, which from his point of view was very attractive. "What is he saying?" He demanded of one of the guards.

"He's been repeating that one word…'Bev—ur…leee' over and over," the lead guard responded.

General Unh's eyes narrowed again. "What does it mean?"

"I do not know General. We tried to make him stop saying it by hitting him harder, but he persisted."

"Some sort of prayer, perhaps," guessed the General. "He is praying for his gods to kill him…or to keep him alive. Either way they will be of no help to him. This alien's fate is in my hands alone."

General Unh swept back his long black hair and peered into Picard's face. The alien smelled too. "Forget it for now, we have business to attend to," he said. "Bring him forward so that he will be visible on screen. The two guards dragged the prisoner forward by his arms. The General glanced around as the Ferengi Kad entered the room looking very pleased with himself, but also visibly nervous, which was a very annoying combination.

Kad's expression grew more worried as he looked at Picard. The human was injured, but somehow still conscious. This would not do. "What are you doing?" Kad accused. These Malkatans were so stupid! And because they were so backward they didn't even have the technology to simulate death. Instead, they had beaten the human senseless. Oh well…as long as the profit from his services was increasing, he was comfortable. "He is clearly awake," said Kad, unimpressed by the Malkatans' primitive tactics.

One of the guards kicked the prisoner in the side of the head and he went limp again. The two guards dragged his inert form forward in between them and stood waiting for General Unh to activate the communications console.

Kad smiled. Good. Bok must be fooled into believing Picard was dead, so that he would believe the contract with the Malkatans had been satisfied. Bok would believe Picard was dead, thereby obtaining revenge for the killing of his son—which now that history had been changed his son was alive and well in 2367—the present day.

The Malkatans had agreed to pay Kad handsomely to keep up the ruse, which would allow them to keep Picard alive long enough to gain whatever knowledge of Federation technology they expected they could obtain from him and his crew—which was probably minimal since they were so stupid. Once they had done that, Kad assumed the Malkatans would kill Picard along with the rest of the _Stargazer_ crew. Of course that was no concern of Kad's. Meanwhile Kad would return to the present day, and then all he would have to do is avoid Bok for a while. And in that moment when he walked in, there was no way for Kad to know how badly the whole thing was going to go down.

* * *

**2367 Present Day**

The Ferengi sat on Geordi's couch, twitching and clutching his hands together in an infuriating manner. "I must leave this place!" he had insisted more than once. "You have no right to keep me here," he shouted.

Beverly Crusher and Data stood in LaForge's living room staring down at Kad. So far they hadn't been able to get much information out of him. On Alcatraz he had begged them not to send him "back there," and yet forty-five minutes later they were no closer to learning exactly where "there" was. They had recovered Picard's old Starfleet badge from him, which he continued to insist he had bought at "auction".

"First you assault me, then you steal my property and now you falsely imprison me."

"Prove you purchased this at an auction and we'll set you free," said Beverly. A few minutes earlier Data had taken her out of the room to remind her that while the badge was definitely Jean-Luc Picard's, there was nothing to connect it to his disappearance from the present day. In addition, Kad claimed it was his property. There was the added complication that there might have been multiple badges made for Picard. The fact that Kad now had one of these badges did not connect him to Picard directly. But Beverly believed there was something here, something suspect.

"I have no receipt, if that is what you mean," said Kad. "Just as you have no legal authority to keep me here," he said smugly.

"Guys," Geordi said rushing into the living room. "Starfleet Security is here. They are demanding Kad be handed over to them."

"What? Do they have a warrant? Geordi, tell them to go away," Beverly said. She was going to lose her one lead, and for what? Geordi shook his head in frustration as if to say "too late".

Kad had a smile on his face now, until he saw who had entered Geordi's living room. "I am sorry, Doctor, but I must have your full cooperation in this matter," said Lieutenant Worf darkly. "The Federation is under attack and this…trader has information necessary to securing the safety of Federation citizens."

"Worf, I just need a few more minutes," said Beverly. "Captain Picard is missing, and I just need to talk to Kad. _Please."_

Worf was well aware of the reports indicating Captain Picard had killed himself. In Worf's mind there was nothing dishonorable about Captain Picard allegedly taking his own life, particularly if the Captain had believed it necessary to correct a dishonor. It was unfortunate however; a loss for all of them. And Worf was not surprised that Doctor Crusher was passionate about finding the truth, given her closeness to the Captain.

But Worf was under pressure from Command, as he had been assigned as a special investigator. People were being killed by ruthless yet elusive invaders, and Worf and a handful of others had been charged with finding out why. This Ferengi who had been spotted in the vicinity of Starfleet Command recently was thought to have information they needed. He met Beverly's penetrating stare briefly, hesitated, but then marched forward and grabbed Kad by the arm. "I am afraid we cannot spare even a few minutes more, Doctor."

* * *

"_Jean-Luc, wake up," Beverly urged him gently. She caressed his face with the back of her hand. His face was hot, but her skin was smooth and cool against his. "It's time for you to wake up."_

"_No…I want to sleep here…with you," he said, trying to pull the covers over his head. He reached out from under the covers to grab her hand. "Come back to bed," he said attempting a playful tone, something he was very unpracticed at._

"_Jean-Luc, I am telling you…if you don't gain some control over this situation you will die. And you will never see me again…is that what you want?"_

_No!_ His head jerked up. Swiveling his neck to the left, the side of his good eye, he saw the holstered weapon, some kind of disruptor; on the hip of the guard who was holding him up by his left armpit. The grip of both guards was rather loose, given Picard's limp posture. He rolled his left eye and saw that his left forearm and hand were within inches of the gun. But the angle was all wrong, and he couldn't reach.

His legs felt like blocks of lead and the rest of his body felt so weak, but tried to put it out of his mind. The only things he had going for him were the element of surprise and the memory of a perfect life that had never existed except in his mind. So he listened to the conversations going on around him, and he waited for his chance.

"The deal was that you would kill Picard," said Bok. He appeared to squint through the view screen at them suspiciously. "He certainly appears to be dead," said Bok.

"He is deceased," said General Unh.

"Good," said Bok. "And you now have the technology you wanted." _For all_ _the good it will do you, moron,_ he thought to himself.

"Not…_all _of the technology," said the Malkatan General.

Bok's eyes narrowed. "What is this? Are you breaking our contract?" he said, with growing outrage in his tone. He glanced at Kad who looked slightly unsure all of a sudden.

"Kad, you are the middle-man here," Bok blamed him. "What is the meaning of this? You were required to return my rental property once Picard was taken care of."

Kad said nothing but glanced over at General Unh with a growing expression of uneasiness. Until now, General Unh had led him to believe that the Malkatans were satisfied with the Stargazer and its weapons technology. Apparently Unh was not nearly as dumb as he looked.

"The Singularity Net is very useful," said General Unh, grinning at Bok up on the screen. "It requires further study."

"This is not the deal we made!" hissed Bok. "Hand over my rental property to Kad immediately."

"I don't think so, the Net is now my property to do with as I please," declared General Unh with a gleam in his eye, as he drew his gun and fired at Kad point blank. Kad threw himself backward and screamed as the energy beam burned across his face, a glancing blow but excruciating nonetheless.

Bok screamed not at Kad's injury, but at the sight of Picard stirring. "He lives," he breathed in and out quickly as though he was hyperventilating and his eyes bulged. Unable through his rage to get any other actual words out, he screamed again and pointed at the screen.

Picard using mainly his will, stood up between the two guards and grabbed the gun from the holster of the Malkatan to his left, shooting the guard through his chest killing him immediately. He got off another shot at General Unh, which struck the General in his leg, sending him sprawling to the floor. The next thing he felt was a hole being burnt through his shoulder as the guard to his right fired on him, and then someone struck him in the head sending him back into unconsciousness.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

* * *

**2367 Federation Research Station Galileo 1—Terran System**

Lead project engineer Sarah Wright looked up in from her work station alarmed by the perimeter alert that had just appeared on her monitor. The small station was so well hidden in the shadow of the moon Callisto, in orbit around Jupiter, that they rarely were approached by passing vessels. But was this even a ship on the security monitor, or something else? She stared at the blue dot on her screen, which had seemingly appeared out of nowhere and now slowly expanded before her eyes.

"James, let's get a visual on the forward camera, please" she called out to her project assistant.

James Tan, her slight assistant sauntered a bit too casually over to the security systems. He was absently chewing a bagel. It would have been great if he'd been able to finish his breakfast but…. Sighing he put his cup of coffee down on the countertop and peered at the screen. His boss, Dr. Wright was constantly suspicious of ships entering this area. Often enough she would ask him to double-check the security perimeter. Usually her concerns ended up unfounded, but he couldn't completely blame her skittishness. James blamed whoever at Starfleet had decided to plant a top secret facility so close to Earth. The passing traffic was at the very least a distraction to their work.

James Tan switched on the front viewer. "There's nothing on the visual sensors, Sarah," he called back over his shoulder.

"I'm right _here_," came her annoyed voice from close behind him. "If there's nothing there, then why is there an electromagnetic distortion out there? And some kind of radiation emission, James…."

As if in answer the floor beneath them began to vibrate. James' bagel fell out of his mouth more from astonishment then the strange reverberation, as he adjusted the sensors again. "Holy shit…there's some kind of mass out there all right." He glanced at Sarah Wright who had gone pale beside him.

"It's disrupting our orbit around Callisto! What the hell could do that?" She exclaimed.

"Not so sure I want to know," murmured James. Sarah turned as several technicians climbed up into the room using the utility ladder at its center.

"What's happening?" one of the techs shouted worriedly.

"You tell me," demanded Dr. Wright. "Why are we shaking?"

"The station stabilizers were thrown off somehow Doctor. If I didn't know better I'd say we were being pulled by a tractor beam," he said. Abruptly the shuddering of the station stopped and everything around them became very still. In that moment they were all tossed to the floor by an unseen force, the confused shouts of the science team creating a panicked clamor in the control room.

Lying prone on her back, something pulled Dr. Wright's head back towards the deck. The side of her face seemed magnetized to the floor, as she stared wide eyed at the internal hatch. They were being boarded, she was sure of it. Invaders were boarding the station and she and her colleagues were stuck to the floor, paralyzed from doing anything but to watch.

Finally after a nerve-wracking few more minutes, the intruders somehow figured out the security code and the locking indicators turned green. With a hiss the hatch opened inward and three stocky figures stepped through. For a moment Sarah Wright's hopes soared despite her compromised situation, for the environmental suits appeared to be Federation issue. But as they approached she could see the suits were not only older models, but they had been modified to fit the wearers who were not human.

"Th—this is a Federation station and you are trespassing—"she said, surprised at her own boldness.

The largest of the three invaders stalked over to her and knelt down. She could see inside his helmet was a large dark blue face with squinty eyes and a tiny nose. "I am a Malkatan, and you are my prisoner," he said in a deep voice. "You do not make the rules."

"We're scientists," she insisted. "We don't have weapons here."

"She lies," shouted one of the other Malkatans. "Our sensors picked up radiation consistent with weapons production."

The lead Malkatan leaned closer and his breath fogged up the inside of his helmet. "Do you think we are stupid? Are you trying to trick us?" She glanced at the make of the space suit again; it was Federation—Starfleet, but an older model.

"No," she said quickly, trying to rack her brain for the appropriate thing to say—or not to say in this kind of situation. All she wanted to do was to avoid dying. Would it help her and her colleagues if she gave up the weapons technology? How long did they have? "We're scientists," she repeated.

The lead Malkatan grunted and stood up, walking away from her. He walked with a pronounced limp. "I will only tolerate lies for so long until I must have the truth. And I know many ways to make you speak the truth, human. And all of these ways are unpleasant."

He pulled a small weapon from his pocket. It resembled an old fashioned sling shot, without the elastic band. He held it up. "Do you see this? It took me over ten cycles to develop this technology. They said it couldn't be done." The Malkatan looked in Dr. Wright's direction again. "Do you wish to see it operate?"

She shook her head as best she could, but her body was still stuck to the floor. "No. That won't be necessary," she blurted out. "Please…."

The Malkatan walked over to James Tan, who lay on the floor about ten feet away from her. The alien flicked his gloved thumb over the device and it was activated, judging by the disturbing hum now emanating from it. He held it outstretched over James almost casually. A small black sphere appeared between the two protrusions of the device, and began to spin faster than Wright could quite believe.

To everyone's shock, with the exception of the Malkatans, James' body was lifted off the floor up into a vertical position. His feet dangled several inches above the floor, and he hovered terrified in front of the Malkatan. The Malkatan shifted the device ever so slightly closer to James's right arm, and just like that James' forearm was gone—disappeared.

He screamed and continued to scream as blood spouted from the remaining stump of his arm. James pallor was quickly turning grey as he flailed hopelessly in mid-air.

"Goddammit he is going to bleed to death," shouted Dr. Wright frantically. The Malkatan fixed her with an expectant stare. "The project is on level three, section C2," she cried out. The Malkatan smiled slowly.

"Sarah, you don't have the authority to just hand them the project," screamed one of the techs.

"Now…please just help him," Sarah pleaded with the head Malkatan. James had gone limp. He was bleeding out.

The Malkatan smiled again. "Sometimes help can come in the strangest forms." He flicked his thumb again and the sphere spun even faster. James screamed as his body seemed to stretch and writhe as if pulled by a great wind. He let out a final shriek as his body elongated, shrunk and then disappeared into the Malkatan's handheld device. He shut the weapon off. "I could tell you that your friend is in a better place now, but as I noted earlier, I hate lies."

* * *

**2367 Earth**

"That's all Wesley knows, Will," said Beverly. After the strange Ferengi Kad had been taken into custody by Starfleet Security for undisclosed reasons, she had left Data and LaForge and spent the rest of the afternoon sitting with her son. Wesley was convinced that Jean-Luc could be located if Wesley found a way to return to the Maxia Zeta system. How he was supposed to do so had not been made clear by the Traveler. Wesley had confided that he believed the Traveler either did not know exactly how to save Picard, or he wanted Wesley to figure it out on his own—which was infuriating if true. Saving Jean-Luc should not be a burden thrust upon her son. But what choice did they have? Vague plan or none at all, if there was even a slim chance of bringing Picard back; she and Wesley had to travel to Maxia. And now as she stood face to face with Riker, she stopped only just short of begging him for his assistance. _I shouldn't have to_, she thought bitterly.

Riker shifted the bag on his shoulder and looked at her with mixed feelings. She'd made up her mind already. It was useless to try and convince her otherwise. But as much as he sympathized, that didn't mean he agreed. "Bev, as much as I'd like to help you, you've got no plan to speak of, no transport, and no clearance to even enter that sector."

"So then if you're not willing to come with us—"

"Beverly, you know that's not fair! I've been assigned to the _Aldrin_ now. I've got other responsibilities."

"Don't talk to me about fairness, Will. _None_ of this is fair. And I've got responsibilities to Jean-Luc. I thought we both did…."

He sighed and glanced over at the waiting shuttle pod. This should have been a happy occasion—instead he felt awful and guilty to the point of being physically ill. "What do you want me to do?"

"I need a ship with warp capability and I need the authorities off our backs."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's a hell of a lot to ask for in this current climate. Beverly, the only thing anyone cares about now is defending the Federation from this new threat. Ships are in short supply. Veteran officers are scared to death…."

"But what if the two things were actually linked—Jean-Luc's disappearance…and these sudden attacks? Nechayev said others from the _Stargazer_ crew have been disappearing as well."

_She's just guessing now…._ He frowned down at her. "What about Admiral Nechayev then? You said Wesley told you she was surprisingly supportive."

"She was…Will I went over to Headquarters after I saw Wesley earlier today. I went to Nechayev's office in fact. They told me she was 'unavailable'. When I wouldn't take no for an answer, things got extremely weird. They told me…they told me her whereabouts were 'unknown'. She's missing too now, Will. But why?"

He shook his head, thoroughly confused. "I don't know. But it doesn't change that my hands are nearly tied here, Beverly."

She raised an eyebrow. "Nearly?"

He nodded at her, backing away. "I'll do what I can," he promised. "I've got to go now."

* * *

**2367 In Earth Orbit—Starfleet Shipyard Sector 001**

"Automated docking procedures complete," announced the computer. A moment later the pressurized hatch unlatched with a thud that caused the deck beneath him to shudder in that familiar way. Riker ducked his head slightly, stepping through the exit onto smooth carpeting. He turned at the sound of quick footfalls.

"Admiral Nakamura," Riker said by way of greeting, reaching his hand out to grasp his superior's hand as they met at the shuttle docking bay entrance.

"Captain Riker…congratulations on your promotion and new appointment," said Nakamura. Mamoru Nakamura gripped his hand firmly and looked up at Riker with a friendly smile. Yet behind the smile was something Riker had seen often recently in the eyes of his fellow Starfleet officers in the months following Wolf 359; a sadness that he knew must be present in his own expression as well, no matter how he tried to hide it.

Riker nodded. "Thank you sir…permission to come aboard?"

"Granted," Nakamura said, stepping aside and gesturing for him to enter. As Riker took in his new surroundings, a feeling of excitement filled his body; the kind he had felt when he first stepped onboard the _Enterprise_ several years previously. He glanced around. Not yet operational at the time of the battle of Wolf 359, the _USS_ _Aldrin_ had been upgraded following the Borg invasion, and so now the Excelsior class starship was as ready as any ship in the fleet, and certainly more well-equipped than most. _New job. New ship. New crew…._

"She's smaller than the _Enterprise,_ Will," said the Admiral. "But she's got incredible potential. The crew is as good as anyone could hope for."

_But it's not the Enterprise._ "Yes sir," he nodded.

Apparently sensing his hesitance, the admiral placed a hand on his arm. "Will…we need good leaders now, more than ever. Sometimes it's best to leave the past behind, to make a clean start."

Riker nodded. "Of course, I agree" he said tightly. "That's why I haven't recruited anyone from the old _Enterprise_ crew."

"We're not asking you to fill his shoes, Will," said Nakamura.

Riker gave his superior a sharp glance. "I know, sir. And I wouldn't try."

"Putting all of that aside, Captain, have you considered calling on someone more familiar for your first officer?"

It was true…the position was still vacant. "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered it," said Riker with a smile. "Of course his promotion is long overdue."

Nakamura slapped him on the shoulder lightly. "Of course," he said. "You've got sixteen hours to convince him to come aboard." He handed Riker a small data pad. "Here. Your first assignment aboard the _Aldrin_."

Nakamura walked away toward the shuttle pod. "Riker?"

Will turned back toward the admiral with a questioning look.

"I know it hurts, Will. I came up the ranks with Jean-Luc…I miss him too. Probably always will."

* * *

**A few hours later...**

"What do you mean you have other commitments, Data?" Riker hadn't expected this answer from Data. "You've seen the latest bulletins. We're under attack by an unknown enemy, using sneak attacks and some kind of diabolical weapon we've never seen before. And they're even killing civilians, Data."

"Yes, Captain," said Data. "I have read the bulletins. The threat you have referenced is undeniable."

Riker frowned and leaned forward squinting into the computer monitor. "Then I don't get it Data. Why won't you accept my offer?"

Data hesitated. "Please do not mistake my rejection of your offer for a lack of appreciation, or respect, Captain Riker."

_What could be more important than to join the effort to fight these things off? _Riker studied the android's placid expression. Suddenly it dawned on him. _Damn it!_ "It's Crusher isn't it?" he demanded. "Beverly's convinced you to go on some wild goose chase without _any_ proof—"

Data tilted his head to the side, his interest piqued. "While it is true that I have never observed a member of the winged _Anatidae_ family in its natural state; nor have I ever pursued one rapidly as you suggest…that was not my primary motivation for-"

"Data…Data it was just a metaphor," Riker said with barely contained irritation. He rubbed his forehead with his palm for a moment, trying to think of what to say next when his console beeped. "_Captain Riker,"_ interrupted his Security Chief. _"Kashirin here."_

"Go ahead, Lieutenant," he said.

"_Admiral Nakamura just sent an urgent message, sir," _she announced. "_One of our research stations near Jupiter was attacked early this morning, sir. We've been ordered to proceed there at once to investigate."_

Riker got up from his chair quickly. "Have Doctor Cru—" he paused and closed his eyes before proceeding, glad the connection was limited to audio. "Lt. Kashirin…please have the CMO prepare the necessary triage supplies for the injured."

"_Sir that won't be necessary,"_ Kashirin continued in her elegant Russian accent. _"There were apparently no survivors…."_


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

* * *

**2367 Starfleet Academy**

Wesley Crusher sat up in his bed quickly. He clutched at the sheets. He'd just had a dream. Captain Picard had been trying to tell him something. Something about missed opportunities. He blinked at the light streaming in through his dorm window. His roommate had brought his girlfriend home to crash and they were both snoring loudly. _Great, I'm never going to fall asleep again with these two idiots_, he thought sourly.

Suddenly his gaze caught on something. He bolted upright on his knees in bed. "Who is it?" he demanded, trying to keep his voice steady and strong. The figure seemed to shimmer in front of his window. It was a figure from all of his recent and distant memories; even more familiar to him than that of his own father. "Captain," he whispered.

The translucent figure of Captain Picard reached out to him plaintively. The figure's lips moved, but no sound came out.

"Captain! Captain!" he shouted, jumping out of bed. "I'm going to help you sir. I promise," he cried out. But the Captain's figure was now gone. Wesley stood in the middle of his bedroom with the distinct feeling that he might be going crazy. Suddenly the light snapped on.

His annoyed roommate sat up in bed looking groggy. "Dude…can't you see we're trying to sleep here?"

* * *

_They moved together as they always had. Everything was natural between them, as it should be. He could sense when she wanted something more from him, or if she wanted him to just be still beside her, just as she seemed able to sense his every need. How long had they been in bed like this? He was losing track. She gazed up into his eyes as he kissed her. She looked at him the same way he felt—intoxicated by the feeling of being together alone. The feeling of newness had never worn away, and he wished desperately that it never would. As he watched her a single tear ran down her cheek. He sucked in a breath and wiped the tear away from her ear with the back of his hand. "What's wrong?"_

_She smiled and shook her head. "It's alright. I just…I just never thought that we would ever be together, and now we are."_

_He smiled. "Yes, we are." He rolled onto his side and reached his hand down to rest lightly on her abdomen. "All of us, together." She put her hand over his and closed her eyes. She was only just starting to show, and the nausea had been coming often he knew. He kissed her lightly on her temple where her tears had not yet dried._

_She looked at him with a suddenly serious expression. "You know this can't last, don't you?" she said. His content smile was immediately erased. _

_Seeing his crestfallen expression she took pity on him and laughed, poking him in the chest. "I meant our privacy! He was so excited to show you his new project last night. It's just a matter of time until he knocks on the door."_

_Relieved he laughed and sat up. "At least he has the good manners to knock," he said, pulling his pajama pants on. "No thanks to his mother," he added over his shoulder. _

"_Ha!" she pushed him in the back with her bare foot, and gathered the covers around her. Still laughing, he pushed himself out of bed and crept over to the door. He cleared his throat loudly, glancing at Beverly, who clasped her hands over her mouth._

"_Chief Engineer Wesley Crusher to the bridge," he called out, and opened the door. The seven year old boy practically fell in to the room, carrying some kind of ingenious construction in his left hand. Wordlessly he reached up to hand it to Picard with an earnestness that Picard found unusual for an officer so young, but quite typical for young Wesley. Taking the tiny replica of the warp core from the boy, he made a point of studying it from every angle very seriously._

"_Wesley, my boy, I think you have just improved the efficiency of the engines by 30 percent."_

"_Thirty percent," Wesley exclaimed. "That's even better than last time," he said proudly. _

"_Yes, even better," Picard agreed, reaching down to pick the little boy up. He hugged him tightly and felt the usually tense child relax into his arms._

_The little boy draped his arms around Picard's neck and planted a wet kiss on his cheek…his son._

* * *

**2355 The Malkatan Base**

_My son…_

The voices came closer. "Where is the Ferengi?"

"He escaped after I shot him," said the second voice.

"He must be somewhere on the base. Find him!"

"General we have scoured the base, but Kad is nowhere to be found. I believe he used his time traveling device to escape."

"…Very well. Forget him. We have Picard, we have his ship, his crew and his technology. I even have the Singularity Net for myself. And if either of those Ferengi returns to try and take it from me, I will have their heads too."

"General, I do not believe they will return. Kad will be satisfied with his payment, and Bok will be satisfied with the knowledge that Picard will be dead soon…you do intend to kill him don't you, General?"

"Yes, of course…eventually. He has not yet outlived his usefulness. Now, wake him up."

There was the heavy shuffling of boots. "Get up!" By now he should not have been shocked by the heavy boot to his ribs, but whether he expected the kick or not, it was still painful.

"Unh," he grunted disagreeably. He had no intention of moving anywhere. His cheek pressed against the cold floor, but compared to his captors the floor was almost comforting. Besides, what could they possibly do to him that they hadn't already done two or three times already? The boot shoved him again. Blinking, he struggled to focus and remember what had happened recently to cause him to end up face first on the floor. Then he thought better of it. Whatever had happened had caused him a great deal of pain; that was all he needed to know. He closed his eyes again and tried to see her face, and to imagine the cold floor was her smooth skin.

Suddenly a great burning weight was grinding into his right shoulder and instantly he remembered what had happened. He had been beaten and dragged into a communications center, had come face to face with a Ferengi for the very first time, had tried unsuccessfully to escape by shooting the Malkatans with their own weapons, and then had been shot himself. Now, the same heavy boot that had been nudging his ribs unkindly was stomping on his shoulder. He sniffed in and smelled burnt flesh. Despite the sickening feeling it gave him, he was happy to be alive. The wound had been cauterized by the Malkatan disruptor beam, and consequently he had not bled to death. He cried out as the Malkatan boot pressed deeper into his wound. Suddenly he was kicked, lifted up and rolled over onto his back. One of the Malkatan guards that had been holding him during the conference with the Ferengi knelt down toward his face. "I said get up! You killed my cousin Blahn!"

He was yanked to his feet and stood swaying, honestly not caring if he fell again. "Really?" He turned his head to look at the Malkatan. "I'm sorry…I meant to kill you instead." The Malkatan growled at him and motioned as if he intended to hit him. Picard smiled through bloody teeth at him.

"Enough!" It was General Unh. He was seated in a nearby chair, his wounded leg splayed out before him. He nodded toward a chair adjacent to his. "Put him in that chair there. Give him something to eat."

"But General…" protested the flabbergasted guard. "He killed Blahn, and then tried to kill you. You must not treat him to anything but more pain."

"Do not tell me what I _must not do_, you drat head. We have already subjected him to several days of pain," said the General. He looked up at the guard. "Has it worked yet?"

The guard scowled and pushed Picard down into the chair roughly. Picard looked up at him and continued to smile at the guard as he backed away. Picard turned his attention to the General. "I'm very glad to hear you have come to see reason. It does no good to torture me. Just tell me what you want. Perhaps I can meet your demands."

"There are still ways to torture you without physically harming you Picard." He hit a switch on a nearby console and a view screen was activated. "Neither of these two fools has given us much yet." There on the screen sat his two most trusted officers, Commander Zev, and his weapons officer Vigo. Like him, they had been beaten, but their faces remained defiant. "They seem dedicated to you, Picard. I hope that will not result in their demise," he added. Zev made eye contact with Picard and tipped one of her antennae at him, but he simply smiled grimly and shook his head. They were alive. But that didn't mean they needed to act rashly. The Malkatan General shut off the screen and fixed his beady eyes on Picard, slowly revealing his sharp teeth. "And we already told you what we wanted Picard. We want to learn to use your technology, specifically your weapons. We have always desired weapons—so much so that we nearly destroyed ourselves and every living thing on our planet." He reached out to hand Picard a cup of water.

Picard took the water and considered for a moment whether the cup was breakable—as in worth attempting to break over the Malkatan's head, but it appeared to be made of soft, pliant, non-lethal material. And realistically he knew he was in no shape to take anyone on at the moment. Certainly not without a suitable plan.

Instead he nodded and took a sip of the water. "That sounds like a rather familiar story," said Picard. "Many cultures including my own fought amongst ourselves incessantly for ages to the point of near extinction. Much of that history is as shameful is it is wonderful."

"But now you are innocent and peace-loving," the General snorted. "With weapons that disintegrate flesh and ships with enough firepower to destroy my planet…."

"We've got plenty of growing to do," Picard admitted. "But the cultures of the Federation are very diverse, and yet we manage to adhere to principles of political non-interference and non-aggression consistently."

The Malkatan General took a large bowl of something hot from an approaching guard and passed it to Picard, watching his prisoner closely.

He greedily drank his soup as fast as possible, oblivious to the burning sensation in his throat. _Hmm…tastes a bit Klingon…._ He shrugged and then wiped his sleeve over his chin, already feeling invigorated. "With the Prime Directive as our guiding principle we are allowed to contact non-space faring worlds only when they request it. Usually by the time they have the ability to contact us across space, they have some kind of limited means to travel into space. And even after that we are limited as to how we introduce technology to lesser developed species."

The General laughed. "Less developed species, such as the Malkatan race…my race? Yes, I've heard of your Prime Directive. The Ferengi told me all about it. In fact we laughed together at its ludicrousness…."

Picard said nothing, but looked down at the table. Who were the Ferengi and how did they know so much about the Federation—about him?

"Does your precious Prime Directive condone your violence against us?"

He looked up sharply at his captor. "_My_ violence? The Prime Directive does not prevent me from defending myself…even with deadly force if necessary. You have been holding me against my will for days without food or medical attention, and you've threatened to kill me numerous times."

"And you shot me through the leg!" shouted General Unh, stomping his uninjured foot on the floor. He pointed at Picard, "You may think we are a primitive culture, Picard, but we have every advantage over you now, don't we?"

Picard stared at him, trying to figure his situation. "Because you met the Ferengi," he said slowly. "They gave you the Singularity Net and you trapped us somewhere close to your planet. You haven't even achieved space travel yet, have you?"

"We had other priorities," said General Unh arrogantly.

"So you've said. Such as constant war amongst your own species. And…without the Ferengi our two cultures would not have met for many years."

"Let me tell you this Picard…the Ferengi are not fools. And they do not _give_ anyone anything. This particular Ferengi—Bok is his name is a salesman. All of his people are. They care for nothing but profit usually. But this one Bok has a particular blind spot…you, Picard."

"Nonsense. I've never heard of or seen a Ferengi until you took me into custody," said Picard with genuine shock.

The Malkatan leaned forward with sadistic delight. "Well he is quite familiar with you…it seems you murdered his son. And he wants revenge…which is why you are here with me."

"Let's just assume I knew Bok—which I do not—you made a deal with him to gain access to our technology and in return you've captured me. Am I to be Bok's payment for your stealing our weapons technology?"

General Unh rose slowly to his feet favoring his good leg. "That's enough talk for now." He nodded at a guard. "See to it he is bathed and given new clothes. And bandage his arm so that he does not become infected and die. I will decide when that happens."

"What now, General?" Picard called after the limping Malkatan, in a last ditch effort to gain the upper hand. "Now that you've broken your deal with Bok and stolen his rental—and on top of that you haven't killed me, which is I am sure what he wants. But you can't kill me can you? Because you need me!"

The Malkatan turned back to look at him with a sinister smile. "Your crew members were extremely disoriented when they were pulled from your ship. I expect it is an interesting after effect of the Net's power. One I hope to exploit. Disorienting your enemy is a very powerful tactic, wouldn't you agree? Sadly one of your engineers had to be killed—he simply went mad, believing his dead brother had returned to save him."

"Leave my crew alone!"

"I noticed you talked in your sleep quite often. Tell me, Picard, have you had any dreams since arriving at my base?"

Picard felt a chill inside him. His only refuge had been his visions of Beverly. They had seemed so real, that he had even come to believe some of them might be memories, or even premonitions of what was to come. If he could only free himself and his ship he had convinced himself he would be returning to the woman he loved and who loved him. But the General's words brought him back to reality. "No, I haven't dreamt," he said dully.

"Not even of your family—a wife perhaps?"

"No," he said stonily. "I have no wife."

"Good…then no one will miss you when you disappear forever."

* * *

**2367 On board the USS Aldrin Somewhere in the Solar System…**

"A _what_?" Riker sat forward to face the small view screen in his ready room. "Admiral, we're currently en route to Callisto to investigate the attack on the research facility. I wasn't informed of any new crew member assignments."

He glanced to the side at his new first officer, who had beamed aboard less than two hours ago. _Pretty good poker face_, Riker noted to himself. So far so good with Obi. Commander Patrick Obi was a young man, brash, and intelligent with dark brown skin and according to rumor a taste for danger. Among other things, he made Riker feel old, really old. But so far they had gotten along well. Obi said nothing, but glanced at him with a knowing look.

"You mean, you weren't informed of any new crew assignments until _now_, Captain," Admiral Richardson corrected him smoothly. "I am sure you will find that CASU will be a wonderful assistant to you, Riker."

_CASU?_ Riker laughed. "Sir, with all due respect, I do not _need_ a personal assistant." His first officer shifted next to him.

Admiral Richardson's face grew tight. "Captain, CASU is part of an important new pilot program, the first one, in fact."

"And CASU is his—er, her name?" Commander Obi ventured.

"No Commander, CASU, stands for Cybernetic Aide and Security Unit. CASU has no gender," said the Admiral.

Riker's face went crimson. "Admiral, since when is Starfleet producing androids?"

Admiral Richardson smiled. "We're not. Captain, CASU is a robotic unit. It's artificial intelligence features are based on those of our starship computers. Certainly it has no advanced positronic brain…no desire to be human." Riker's eyes narrowed. "CASU has been programmed to be useful and if necessary, quite lethal to our enemies. Gentlemen these are especially dangerous times," Richardson continued. "We learned through the events leading up to Wolf 359 that starship captains are much too vulnerable to violence…and even to abduction, as you well know."

Was that a shot at him, personally? Riker really hoped that it wasn't.

"Captain, Commander, it is very important that you both set an appropriate model for this crew when it comes to CASU. CASU is not a crew member, nor should it be treated as such. To ensure that this happens, CASU's programmer will be accompanying it on board the _Aldrin_. Dr. Mayer will be tasked with making sure CASU is operating at maximum efficiency at all times."

Riker was not happy, so instead of saying what he really felt, he simply said, "Sir."

"Good then. You'll pick up your new robotic unit at Star Base 24, following your investigation of the attack on the research station. Richardson out."

* * *

**Less than an hour later on board the Research Station Galileo 1…**

"No sign of any bodies, Captain," Commander Obi reported. He didn't need to mention that while there was an absence of bodies, the surfaces of the main control room were covered with blood. "One of the hatches was blown, sir, but all areas are now re-pressurized and the atmospheric mix is breathable. Radiation levels are normal."

"Good work," Riker said. He pulled off his helmet and looked around him. The air was chilled, which was good because it muted the smell of death around them.

"We need to take as many readings as possible, Obi. Just looking around here…I have no clue what happened to these people, or whoever did this."

"The work of a cruel heart, Captain," Obi agreed.

"Sirs!" They turned around to follow the voice. It was Lieutenant Kashirin. The Security Chief was pointing excitedly at a wall. Riker and Obi ran to her side and knelt down to see what she was looking at.

Whoever the poor soul was who had died in this spot had the fortitude and courage to write one word in his or her own blood. Riker was unfamiliar with the word "Malkatan", but he had a feeling that unfamiliarity would soon end.

"Get me a link to Admiral Nakamura," Riker said.

* * *

**Hi there, thanks for the well wishes, I am doing fine, and happy to be able to concentrate somewhat on writing again. As I mentioned though my writing pace will continue to be slow for some time, so bear with me. Anyway, I hope you are enjoying the story, and thanks for reading and reviewing as always. -PP  
**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

_**USS Aldrin**_

"Come in," Riker called out when his ready room door chimed. He smiled as his first officer walked in. "Mr. Obi," he said, waving him over.

"Captain we've arrived at Star Base 24," said Obi. "Doctor Mayer has signaled her readiness to beam aboard, sir."

"Thank you…look Commander, I don't want to give you the impression that I'm someone who avoids a challenge."

Patrick Obi shook his head with a puzzled frown. "You haven't sir."

Riker nodded. "Good. I'm not usually one who makes snap judgments either, Commander, so I'm glad we have that in common. But I can already tell she's going to be a problem," he said turning his computer screen to face Obi. A beautiful blonde woman with a slightly arrogant expression stood at a podium, in the midst of some kind of lecture which Riker had just paused.

Obi smiled quickly and cleared his throat. "I'll take a guess that this is Doctor Mayer, CASU's programmer." Riker nodded seriously and rubbed his chin gazing at the screen with obvious concern. Obi didn't see any cause for concern—just an incredibly gorgeous and brilliant woman. Was this some kind of trick on the part of his new commanding officer and was he being tested? "Sorry sir, but I fail to see any problem."

Riker smiled tightly. Just a few years ago, Riker himself would have reacted in much the same way. Obi was already fooled by the scientist's beauty. But something about Admiral Richardson's emphasis on treating CASU like a mechanized servant didn't sit well with Riker. He had lived with Data long enough to recognize Richardson's attitude about intelligent machines was nothing other than bigoted. And watching Doctor Mayer's latest speeches on the future of robotics indicated her own views were just as problematic. "Doctor Johanna Mayer has some very let's say…_strong_ views about how humans should view and interact with artificial intelligence.

Obi leaned against the desk. "Anything we should be worried about, sir?"

Riker shut off the program and sat back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the desk. "Obi, there's a growing movement on Earth determined to de-emphasize any notion that artificially intelligent beings could ever have consciousness the same way we humans do."

Obi nodded. "Neo-Humanists. I've heard of them. But I've also personally seen Nanites in action, sir, so I would tend to disagree with anyone who took such as strict view of synthetics. I'm sure your own experiences have similarly informed your own views sir." He didn't have to mention Data. It was common knowledge that the _Aldrin's_ new captain had served with Starfleet's only android for four years aboard the _Enterprise_.

"Yes…yes, they have," said Riker, glancing at Obi. "Being an explorer- having seen the things that we've seen Mr. Obi, doesn't easily allow for a narrow minded world view. Nevertheless, Doctor Mayer seems to be at the head of the Neo Humanist movement. I think largely it's one built out of fear Obi—after what happened to us at the hands of the Borg. Fear isn't a good basis for change, and if this group of individuals were ever to become a majority…well this human-centric kind of thinking could easily isolate us from other Federation races, not to mention our non-Federation allies, like the Klingons." He got up from his desk. "If they want to make it a part of political life, then fine. But I'm no politician, and I don't like the idea that my ship has been chosen as a testing ground for a project which I now have good reason to suspect came from narrow-minded ideas. We've got work to do, Obi, and I don't want it compromised by ideology."

Commander Obi nodded. _He doesn't even want to go and meet her in the transporter room._ "Sir, I know you're working on finishing the investigative report from the research station. I'd be happy to volunteer to meet CASU and Doctor Mayer in the transporter room myself."

Riker smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Commander. Let me know once they are settled."

"You mean Doctor Mayer, sir…once _she's_ settled. I'll be bringing CASU directly to the bridge for duty, of course."

"Of course," Riker echoed.

* * *

Commander Patrick Obi straightened as the beam dissipated and his new visitors stood in solid form atop the transporter pad. At least Doctor Mayer was there, accompanied by what appeared to be a large smooth edged metallic box, hovering above the pad. There were no obvious features present on the shiny dark metallic surface. Not exactly what he had expected of Captain Riker's new Cybernetic Aide and Security Unit. _Oh well._ Not to be put off and flashing his most winning smile Obi walked forward, with his hand outstretched as she stepped down to shake it firmly. "Ma'am," said Obi. "Welcome aboard the USS Aldrin. I am the ship's First Officer, Commander Obi."

"Pleased to meet you, Commander," said Doctor Mayer, glancing around the transporter room.

"Captain Riker sends his regards," he said, as her cool blue eyes completed their examination of the room and rested on his face. "Unfortunately his attention was called by other duties."

She smiled coolly. "Of course. I had heard about the attack on the Galileo. I'd also heard that was not an isolated event." She gazed at him, but he didn't acknowledge her silent probe. "It seems we are once again the victims of a series of alien surprise attacks," said Doctor Mayer.

Obi smiled slightly. "We're not victims," he said simply.

Ignoring his reply, she nodded toward the transporter pad. "CASU," she said, her voice taking on an abruptly stern tone. The hovering box moved forward without hesitation and was swiftly at her side. It made no sound save for a low hum.

Obi raised an eyebrow. He motioned toward the exit. "Captain Riker asked me to give you a brief tour before we meet him on the bridge."

"I'd be delighted," she said walking out ahead of him. CASU trailed behind her obediently.

* * *

"Is Obi your first name or your last?"

"Um, it's my last name, Ma'am."

"Of Human origin, no doubt," Mayer said looking him up and down as she walked beside him.

He frowned. "Yes, Obi is Nigerian, Doctor."

"And your first name?"

"Patrick," he grinned. "That's English."

"Well, I am Johanna Mayer, Mr. Obi, and both of my names are German in origin."

He gave her a puzzled smile. "Well, doctor, in this day and age I am sure you'd agree our ancestral origins aren't so relevant."

She smiled back at him. "Why yes, I do agree. But the difference Mr. Obi—"

"Please…call me Patrick," he insisted.

"Very well…the difference _Patrick_ is that you and I actually come from _somewhere_, whereas CASU, comes from nowhere but our collective human imaginations."

Ah yes, he was apparently being taught a lesson. "And that means _what_ exactly?"

"It means that your initial reaction to seeing CASU was the correct one. CASU is no more than a metal box to be used for human purposes. And we would be doing ourselves a disservice if we ever gave it more importance than that."

Obi slowed before the turbo lift, and motioned for her to enter ahead of him. He stepped inside and then the hovering box followed him in with a low hum. "Seems like a strange sentiment coming from CASU's programmer," said Obi. "Bridge," he said to the computer.

"If you knew me, Commander, you would know that I have no sentiment at all when it comes to CASU, or any of my other creations. CASU is a machine—one that I hope your Captain will find very useful," she said.

* * *

Riker looked up from the report he had just been handed, as the turbo lift doors swished open. He glanced at the young Ensign, who stood expectantly close by, awaiting the Captain's review of the hastily compiled report of weapons research stations in Federation territory. Riker groaned inwardly as Commander Obi stepped through the doors followed by the beautiful Doctor Mayer and…a metal box? Let down already by his first officer. "Commander I thought I ordered you to give Doctor Mayer a tour—"

Obi looked as though he was about to either apologize profusely or defend himself when something unexpected happened.

The hovering metal box gave a whirring noise and then collapsed into a barrel-like shape. "Proximity alert," came a voice that sounded exactly like the ship's computer. The metallic barrel spun quickly and within the space of three seconds was replaced by a seven foot robot with long arms and legs. "Proximity alert," CASU repeated. Taking no notice of anyone else, it stalked quickly down toward Riker and the young Ensign and placed one of its long arms between Riker and the Ensign. "Hey," said Riker, more than a little taken off guard. "What's going on here?" he fixed his annoyed gaze on his first officer.

"Sorry sir, I had no idea," Obi, said, walking down toward him quickly.

The robot continued to stand very still with its arm between Riker and the young ensign. Riker nodded for the ensign to move away and then shifted his gaze to Doctor Mayer, who sauntered behind Obi at an unconcerned pace.

"What the hell is the meaning of this?" Riker demanded.

"Captain, CASU is simply protecting you, as it was designed to do," said Mayer. "It recognizes that this crew member is close enough to physically harm you."

"Ensign Munoz was delivering a report. He had every reason to stand next to me. I don't intend to have my crew members threatened by an immense over-protective robot, Doctor." This was not good. Riker shook his head and moved toward his command chair. The sound of hydraulic feet followed behind him and he turned to look up into the featureless metal face of his new sidekick. Literally it had no features. Where it's eyes, nose and mouth would have been, there was simply a plate of metal. Still it didn't seem to have trouble seeing him.

Riker craned his neck around to stare at Doctor Mayer, whose face was the epitome of icy professionalism. CASU remained very still.

"You have got to be kidding me…." Riker reached out to tap his knuckles on the robot's side. It made a solid clanking sound, but seemed almost immoveable. "Excuse me," he said looking up at the robot. CASU, shifted obediently out of the way, but remained close by.

"CASU has been programmed to remain at your side, unless ordered otherwise, Captain," Mayer explained.

"Well, Doctor Mayer I prefer to go to the bathroom by myself, so if this is going to be a problem… you might have some programming bugs to work out. And the sooner the better, because I've already had three cups of coffee this morning."

Commander Obi stifled a small laugh at his side, and Riker leaned around CASU to give his first officer a sharp look.

"Captain Riker, I can't say that I am surprised by your attitude, but perhaps we can further discuss CASU's operational parameters in your ready room?"

Riker made a face, but motioned for her to follow him to his office. Again the sound of hydraulic limbs followed close behind him. Riker stopped abruptly, as did the metal feet. "Can we discuss CASU without CASU present?"

Doctor Mayer looked up at the robot and held her palm out flat. The robot took two steps back and seemed to power down, dropping its arms to its sides. Riker raised an eyebrow before resuming the retreat to his ready room.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

* * *

**The **_**Enterprise**_** four months ago…**

"You haven't touched your food, Jean-Luc. I know you well enough to know that it's not a good sign."

He looked up from pushing his food around on his plate. "Hmph." He frowned to himself. "I'm truly sorry, Beverly, I was just thinking."

Beverly Crusher smiled pleasantly and popped a grape into her mouth. She didn't actually mind when he had that faraway look because it meant she could look at him without him noticing. Because it was when he noticed that they both grew uncomfortably self-conscious, and of course almost necessarily the evening would end. She had already moved onto dessert as he stared absently down at his plate and then peered over her shoulder out of the view port in his quarters. She didn't take it personally. Neither one of them was used to having dinner together. Breakfast was one thing. Once breakfast was over each would depart for their respective shifts. But in the evening the possibilities after a meal were much varied and unsettling. "Yes, I believe that's the problem. You're thinking too much, Captain."

He looked up at her, and cursed himself silently as he carefully placed his fork down. He had invited her for dinner, something unusual and exciting for them both. But he wondered now if it had been a moment of poorly thought out weakness. It embarrassed him even to admit to himself that he had wanted to be comforted by her presence. It was selfish really, and he recognized that now.

The completion of its last mission had brought the Enterprise in close proximity with the Maxia Zeta system. And even after so many years, it gave him pause. Not only had he lost his ship the Stargazer in this system twelve years ago, but just a year before that he had brought Jack Crusher's body to Star Base 32, where Beverly had been waiting for him. Perhaps inviting Beverly to dinner was his way of attempting to tell himself that he had moved beyond this. But the truth was, he hadn't. Why this sector of space had been so intertwined with his fate remained a mystery to him. But there was no reason to jump to the conclusion that something bad was going to happen now; in fact things had been uneventful thus far. So even as his ship skirted the edge of the Maxia Zeta system, he put somber thoughts out of his head for a moment in order to focus on the woman before him.

She was giving him that look. The look she gave him when she reminded him silently just how well she knew him. It was the look he pictured on those nights when he closed his eyes and sleep refused to come. "Perhaps you're right," he said.

"What do you mean?" she asked, having honestly forgotten what she had said a few minutes ago.

"That I'm thinking too much. You're quite right of course. I really should have been focusing on you, and what you were saying," he said politely.

_Oh, he's decided to be polite now._ "But I wasn't saying anything," she admitted. She smiled and reached over the table unexpectedly to take his hand. "I was just watching you."

She rubbed her fingers on the inside his palm, and he awkwardly squeezed her hand perhaps harder than he meant to, but she returned his grip with a small laugh. "It's okay," she said softly.

Picard felt a flush of warmth start in his chest and dissipate throughout his body in a rush of good feeling. He smiled at her but pulled his hand away, as the rush of good feeling threatened to settle somewhere closer to his lap. Sometimes it didn't take very much for his body to get ahead of his mind, and that was why he pulled his hand away. She was flirting with him, but he had grown used to things ending there—if they got there at all. His expectations were realistic, weren't they?

He watched for her reaction, and she didn't reveal as much as he would have liked. He couldn't tell if she was bothered by the fact that he had withdrawn his hand from hers, or if she was even relieved on some level. No, she had her poker face on, he supposed. He wondered how angry she would be if she ever came to know just how observing her reactions to his words excited him. It was perhaps his inaction that got her ire up the most, and he admitted that part of him was aroused by her anger. But not now. Right now, she was very calm, very pleasant, which he had to admit was also very nice. "Despite the fact that you've been off in your own little world—I've enjoyed our dinner. I'm glad you invited me tonight, Jean-Luc."

He sighed. "Me too." She was quiet a moment more and then she brought her knee up hugging it casually to her chest, watching him closely. He tried not to stare at her leg, and blinked, finding his eyes cross slightly. Silently he was relieved that she had not dressed more provocatively. The idea of her bare leg right now was a little much.

"But not glad enough to hold my hand more than a few seconds," she observed with a small smile.

He sat up straighter in his chair. "Oh…well I wasn't sure that was what you wanted, Beverly."

"Oh, don't try to put this on me, Jean-Luc," she said slyly. "Did you think I reached out to take your hand involuntarily? Admit it…you didn't want to hold hands with me. You're just too shy," she added, biting her top lip in a not so subtle attempt to hide her amusement at his expense.

"I am not…shy, Beverly. I am simply trying to be considerate of your feelings," he said, unable to contain his irritation. _Shy…how utterly ridiculous she must think I am!_

To his surprise she rose to her feet and strolled over to his side, where he was still seated. "Are you sure you're not just a little bit shy, Captain?" she challenged him gently. He turned sideways in his chair, moving his legs out from under the table, which had the unintended effect of his knees brushing against her legs. If she minded, she didn't change her stance, and in fact he felt her shift her weight a little leaning against him. He looked up at her with some degree of muted shock, as she offered her hand to him again. In that split second he imagined what it would be like if he gently gripped the backs of her thighs and pulled her closer to him, but instead, he simply reached up and took her offered hand. And then as she leaned down toward him, the communications link beeped. "Riker to Captain Picard." They looked at each other with the same expression. There was really nothing to say, because it always happened this way. Beverly looked up at the ceiling and stepped backward, folding her arms over her chest.

Picard stood up, carefully side stepping her. "Yes, Number One, what is it?"

"Sir, we're reading a distress call. It's coming from deep inside the Maxia Zeta System, sir."

* * *

**2367 Starfleet Headquarters—the present**

"I am giving you one last chance to revise your story," Worf boomed, walking back into the interrogation room. He slapped a data pad down on the table in front of Kad.

The Ferengi leered up at him and shoved the data pad away. "Or what?"

"Or I will charge you with burglary from the home of a former Starfleet Officer!" Worf slammed his fist on the table, making the small Ferengi flinch. "Unidentified Ferengi DNA was found inside Captain Picard's quarters in Hawaii within days of his death." The fact was, Worf had pressed for charges of wrongful death, but according to Starfleet's Chief Magistrate, there was not enough evidence to support that anyone, but Captain Picard had taken his life.

"Ha!" sneered Kad. _Stupid Klingon. _"You just said _unidentified_ Ferengi DNA…was it _mine_?" He showed his teeth.

Worf worked his jaw angrily, and turned his back on the Ferengi. "What auction did you say you were attending when you purchased Captain Picard's badge?"

"I told you before, it was Terrellian," said Kad.

"I contacted the Terrellian consulate, Kad," said Worf turning back to face his prisoner. "Being Federation members, they were very cooperative. They informed me of every single auction held in the last month." He held up the Captain's badge between his fingers. Something about seeing the light in the room glint off of its surface stirred something deep within him. He did not believe that Picard would ever kill himself. And he would find justice for his former captain even if it meant pulling it out of Kad's guts. "This item was not registered as part of the inventory of any of those 23 auctions."

Kad's eyes narrowed. "Who said the auction was government sanctioned?"

Worf sat down slowly. "A black market auction? Then your purchase was not legal, and you can easily be divested of this item," he said, still holding the badge.

Kad stared at him. "What do you want from me?"

"The truth."

"I gave you the truth. You have nothing on me, _Klingon_."

When he spoke next, Worf's voice was almost soft. He held the badge in his outstretched palm. Kad clenched and unclenched his bony fingers. "Why do you want this back so badly, _Ferengi_?"

"Because it is _my_ property…."

"Then you might be surprised to know that we detected Captain Picard's DNA on this badge. A recent sample…."

The Ferengi's eyes widened slightly. "But you said yourself that is his old badge. Th—that makes no sense!"

Worf grabbed the Ferengi by the earlobe and yanked. "Admit that you stole this badge from Captain Picard's home! A thief who steals from the dead is not _fit_ to live," he growled, pulling Kad closer.

Kad howled, trying helplessly to bat Worf's hand from his sensitive ear. "I didn't do it! I swear on all of my stores of gold-pressed latinum, I was not inside his home!"

Worf looked down at the table and tried to collect his emotions. Something about what the Ferengi said rang true, but underneath there was a much bigger lie that still lay hidden from him. Slowly he let go of Kad's earlobe, and sat back in his chair as the Ferengi let out a squeak.

"It is…interesting that you should mention your stores of gold pressed latinum, Kad," said Worf accusingly. "Are you referring to the 500 bars we found inside your car?"

"Ha! That's just a payment, hardly a fraction of my total net worth," Kad snorted as though his feelings were hurt.

"Payment for what?" Worf asked.

The Ferengi clutched his hands to his chest. "Nothing! None of your business." He stood up suddenly knocking his chair over.

Worf reached into his pocket and pulled out a shiny gold bar and placed it down on the table with a heavy snap. Kad immediately grabbed for it, but Worf snatched it away. "Sit down," he ordered.

Kad sat back down warily, still staring at the bar. "That is _my_ property…you stole it from my car! It belongs to me, Klingon."

"Does it?" Worf asked. "It certainly has a stamp that matches those 500 bars we found in your car, Kad." He turned it on its side to reveal a small signature stamp. "But this was not found in your car, Kad." Kad's eyes widened for the first time in what seemed genuine surprise. "Within the past week, six Federation outposts and research facilities have been attacked. The attackers leave no survivors. The most recent facility was very close to the Earth, so you can imagine we are determined to bring the perpetrators to justice," said Worf.

"What does that have to do with me? I was just passing through, before that red haired female and her goons kidnapped me and then you threw me into this prison-"

"This latinum bar was one of six others that were left at each attack site. That means the attacks have at least something to do with you, Kad. And at the very least, it means you know what the word Malkatan means."

Kad's eyes bulged from his head. "M-Malkatans?"

* * *

**Hey, thanks for reading and reviewing...I truly appreciate it. Peace out -PP**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

* * *

Beverly glanced at Wesley, who looked thin inside a big brown coat he pulled around him. He wore an over-sized sweatshirt underneath with a hood which he had pulled over his head trying to look inconspicuous no doubt. It was a foggy morning and being a mid-summer San Francisco day, it was fairly chilly. But Beverly Crusher didn't intend to wait around for the fog to burn off and the beautiful sun to appear; she had places to go. She resisted the urge to put her arm through her son's. They stood near one of the shuttle bays outside of Starfleet Headquarters. She broke into a nervous smile at the approach of three familiar figures.

"Data, Geordi…why are you still wearing your uniforms?" Crusher asked, adjusting the bag over her shoulder. Her plan had been to appear as unofficial as possible. Deanna Troi seemed to sense her discomfort and gave her a little wave as they neared.

Data turned to Geordi who held an engineer's kit in his hand. "Geordi had a plan," Data replied innocently.

Geordi shrugged and held up the kit. "Just in case…I mean I know Commander Riker freed the ship up for us, but…well everyone's on edge right now because of the attacks. And they've limited ship use."

They walked toward the sleek looking runabout ship. Much bigger than a shuttle but far smaller than a starship, it was exactly what they had needed. It had warp capability and was equipped with phasers. Riker had come through for them, designating the ship for the _USS_ _Aldrin_ subject to his discretionary use.

He'd even gone so far as to write an order giving Beverly permission to use the ship for "a personal business matter and eventual rendezvous with the _Aldrin_" and had put the order in writing in case they encountered resistance. She gripped the data pad in her pocket as the security officer approached from behind the ship.

He waved them off. "I'm sorry sirs," he said apologetically. "This area is off limits as of 0800 this morning."

"It's okay," Beverly said, reaching into her pocket and handing him the data pad. "We have permission to take this ship out of dock."

He read the pad quickly and gave it back to her shaking his head. "Sorry, but all ships have been commandeered for use in potential defensive measures. We're under attack you know…."

"Yes, I know," Beverly said shortly. "But as you can see, we have the Captain's permission to take this ship out, so stand aside, Ensign."

The young officer scratched his head. "Uh…."

Geordi held his hands out. "Look," he said smoothly. "At least let us check out the ship and make sure it's battle-ready." He nodded at the engineer's kit in his hand.

"To be precise this vessel has clearly seen 'better days'," Data chimed in helpfully.

The young man was still uncertain. "Alright…but don't take too long."

Without hesitation, Data and Geordi proceeded toward the runabout with Troi, Crusher and Wesley following.

"Do you all really need to go inside for the inspection?" the guard called after them.

Troi smiled sweetly at him. "Yes, we _really_ do," she said stepping inside.

Beverly put her hand on the hull of the ship and looked back at the guard, who looked as though he was about to contact his superiors. She knew if she had to talk to Worf she would, but right now she didn't want to complicate things any further. "If they find Admiral Nechayev…I mean _when_ they find her, ask her-I know she will approve of what we're doing," she tried to reassure the guard.

He stared at her with a genuinely puzzled expression. "Who's Admiral Nechayev?"

Beverly and Wesley looked at each other in silent alarm, and then she grabbed his hand as they both climbed quickly into the ship.

"Hey!" The guard shouted after her as the door slammed shut behind them.

"Geordi, get this thing going!" Beverly shouted, as she and Wesley threw themselves into seats. Troi hurried over to sit down next to them, pulling the seat belt restraints down over her shoulders.

"I'm on it, Doc," LaForge called back as he and Data settled into the pilot and co-pilot seats.

"They're stealing Captain Riker's ship!" The guard was motioning his colleague over from across the bay. But he was too late. The heat from the runabout's engines forced him to back away to a safe distance. He watched in shock as the ship lifted up and sped away into the morning sky.

* * *

**2355 In the Maxia Zeta Sector on Board the USS Valor (Altered Reality)**

"Captain, Starfleet Command is signaling us again," said the nervous young ensign at communications. "The message reads: _'All ships receiving this priority message are to cease the search for the USS Stargazer immediately and report to the nearest star base for debriefing.'_" The Captain did not turn around to acknowledge her subordinate, but that was nothing new. "Shall I prepare a response sir?"

"There is only one suitable response to a message like that," said Captain Alynna Nechayev. "It just _begs_ to be ignored," she said.

"Should I plot a course for Star Base 32 captain?" asked the helmsman.

"No, I'm not ready to end the search. Didn't you hear what I just said?" she snapped.

"Yes sir. Sorry sir."

The bridge fell silent except for the sounds of the various terminals working. Very suddenly there was a loud beeping from the science station.

"Sensors picking up ionic pulse-possibly from a starship, captain" the science officer announced excitedly.

Nechayev found she was holding her breath. "Any sign of debris?"

"No evidence of a ship having been destroyed here, sir," the tactical officer added. "But it's possible a short battle took place in this sector."

Nechayev sat forward in her command chair. "Does the particle trail stop here, lieutenant?" She asked the science officer without turning around.

Lieutenant Parra frowned into his terminal. "I'm not reading anything resembling an ion emission anywhere else in this sector, sir." He looked up. "The trail ran cold sir."

Nechayev stood up and put a finger to her lips thoughtfully. "Divert power from the deflector shield to boost sensor output," she ordered.

"Aye captain," said tactical, his fingers flying over the controls to comply with her order. But then he looked up worriedly. "Sir...that will significantly weaken our defensive capabilities for the next few hours until the shields can be recharged."

"I will accept the consequences of my decision, Lieutenant."

The beeping grew louder again. "Sir the boost worked! Picking up some trace ion phase emissions just at the far edge of this sector sir. Sensors show the emissions are in orbit around a class M planet sir."

"Inhabited?"

"Unknown, Captain, this area of space is largely uncharted."

"Which is what my good friend Jean-Luc Picard was doing out here in the first place," she muttered to herself, sitting back down. "Charting this backwater system. Proceed to intercept," she said in a louder voice.

"Sir…there's no guarantee that it—"

"It's Picard, and we're going. Warp 8."

* * *

**Several minutes later…**

"The ion emissions are definitely here, Captain," Lieutenant Parra reported from his science station as they entered orbit around a dark green planet.

"But no _Stargazer_," said Nechayev. Yes she was stating the obvious, but she needed to let it begin to sink in, that it was unlikely she would see Picard ever again.

"There's something else sir. Sensors are picking up a disturbance of some kind in orbit with us," said tactical.

"A cloaked ship?" Nechayev asked.

"Negative, Captain. It is...it can't be… sir we're reading an event horizon."

"Nonsense! If it were a black hole we'd be pulled in already before we had a chance to read our sensors...and there would certainly be no planet here either," she scolded him. But then she appeared to reconsider and pointed at the forward view screen. "Are the ion emissions anywhere near this…singularity you've found?"

Parra looked up quickly. "Right inside it sir."

Nechayev tapped her chin. "What if the Stargazer were trapped somehow inside an cloaked gravitational field of some kind. Unable to escape…."

She stumbled backward as the ship shuddered. She knew immediately they had been fired upon. "Shields up," she ordered, walking swiftly back to her seat. The ship shook again violently.

"Captain we've taken two direct hits already," yelled the tactical officer. "Shields are compromised!"

"Where is the weapons fire coming from?" Nechayev demanded.

"The planet sir."

"Dammit get a lock and _return_ fire," she shouted. "Evasive maneuvers."

"Sir, we're being held in place! We've lost control over propulsion."

The next hit threw her from her command chair, and as she pushed herself to her feet, the bridge was already filling with smoke. She could see that her science officer, Lieutenant Parra was either gravely injured or already dead. "Fire at will," she commanded, trying to get and keep her balance.

"Firing phasers," came a choked cry at tactical.

She stared directly into the forward view screen as the last blast of white energy came barreling toward them. There was no point in looking away, because in the blink of an eye it would be over.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

* * *

**2367 The Planet Ferenginar (Present Day)**

At least Picard had been humiliated. Just four months earlier he had lost the Enterprise, destroying his own famous starship for no apparent reason...well actually for reasons only Bok and a few others knew. In any case, Picard had then been forced to leave his beloved Starfleet in disgrace, while all of the Humans no doubt had wondered what had driven the man insane. To top it off, Bok had staged Picard's suicide, causing his friends and loved ones additional shame and despair.

And now, Picard had disappeared from the present, which meant he was dead in the past. So what if Kad and the Malkatans had tricked him into believing Picard was dead already? The fact remained that if he had disappeared from the present day, it was because the brutal Malkatans had murdered him in the past at some point. He didn't need the details. He was satisfied with the result: a carefully exacted revenge.

Bok smiled to himself. Kad's betrayal would be dealt with in due time. There was only one real drawback. _Brom_….As he considered it, his smile gradually departed.

Five months before now, Bok had entered the past with his time travel device-worth every bar of gold pressed latinum he had paid for it. He had met with Brom, his son in the year 2355 and told him of his impending death in the battle of Maxia. He had explained his plan to destroy Picard piece by piece, trapping the Stargazer in a marvelous piece of engineering that he called the Singularity Net. While in the Net, which he would rent to a suitably brutal but less advanced race, Picard and his crew would be tortured and killed, and his son Brom would not die in the shameful massacre the Federation so proudly called the Picard Maneuver. Instead there would be no Picard Maneuver, just a ship that went missing mysteriously back in 2355. And consequently the present day Picard would be extinguished.

Brom had actually had the audacity to question the profit to be gained personally, as though having his life saved was not enough. But Brom was every bit a Ferengi as his father was, and Bok really couldn't blame him. Brom had even had the gall to suggest that by saving his life, Bok would no longer need revenge because the injury of the Battle of Maxia would never have happened in the first place. Clearly his son did not understand the torment Bok had suffered at the hands of Picard for so many years because of that fateful day.

But eventually Brom had come around, satisfied that a longer life would make him more financially prosperous, which was really all anyone could ask for. And as promised, Brom had entered the Maxia Zeta system, attacked the Stargazer and then escaped as the starship was pulled into the Singularity Net, wielded by the fanatical weapons producing species known as the Malkatans.

Bok laughed out loud. The Malkatans…yes they'd stolen his Net, broken the rental contract. But he highly doubted such an inferior bunch of slugs would ever be able to figure out how to use the Net again. No doubt the Malkatans had either faded into obscurity over the last twelve years, or perhaps had simply blown themselves up with all of their weapons. He certainly hadn't heard of them. Something occurred to him then to cause him slight concern. Suppose getting rid of Picard would eventually change things for the worse in the galaxy? He looked around him at his substantial piles of money and shrugged off the idea as ludicrous.

Bok was jarred from his calculating as one of his accountants walked in the room with a giant ledger under his arm. The accountant, Bandot, slammed the ledger down in front of Bok.

"Daimon, the threats to your property are increasing. While we are sitting here counting slips of latinum, Brom is getting bolder as we speak!"

Daimon Bok sighed. Brom...his son's recent business activities had made Bok begin to question his decision to let the boy live twelve years ago. "What now?" he asked the fidgeting accountant.

"As of this morning, Brom has initiated hostile takeovers of three of your companies, Daimon. And nine of your employees have tendered their resignations, defecting to rival companies. Daimon Bok, your son is poisoning your reputation for ruthless profiteering. He is making you look weak!"

"Well…" said Bok getting to his feet. "My son has chosen poorly. If he wanted me for an enemy he has gotten his wish."

* * *

**2367 The Maxia Zeta System (About Four Months Ago)**

Just ten hours ago, Riker had interrupted his dinner with Beverly Crusher. The distress signal had turned out to be a false alarm. But it had brought the Enterprise back to the area where he had lost the Stargazer twelve years earlier; and brought his mind back into the past as well. It was an absolutely surreal and unsettling experience being here again. He hadn't expected that he would experience so many strong emotions. After Bok had confronted him with the remains of his old ship three years ago, he believed that he had laid the old ghosts to rest. But now returning to the scene of the Stargazer's loss reminded him of his fallibility. As much as he had privately pushed for perfection his entire life and career, he was far from perfect that day. Members of his crew had died, and the Stargazer had been disabled and abandoned because of the decisions he had made during their encounter with the unidentified ship. As much as he was still pained by his failure to prevent his own abduction by the Borg and the violence and destruction that had resulted, deep down he now recognized that it hadn't truly been his fault. He hadn't been in control. But at Maxia all those years ago there had been no Borg collective controlling his mind. He had been in control; but it hadn't been enough.

Minutes ago Beverly had visited him his ready room just to ask him how he was doing. Before returning to her duties she told him to try and live in the present. Her compassion for him touched him deeply. He now acknowledged that she was his best friend, the only person with whom he dared let his guard down, but lately he felt the relationship was becoming something more. He was eager to find out what that something could be.

But now as he sat on the bridge, something was not quite right. He felt slightly disoriented, so he took advantage of the fact that he was sitting down in his command chair and shut his eyes briefly.

"Captain are you alright?"

A gentle hand rested on his forearm. He opened his eyes slowly and turned to see that Deanna Troi was leaning toward him with concern. He moved his arm away and closed his eyes again. "Yes…I'm just resting my eyes, Counselor. No need for concern."

He felt nauseous and bizarrely, the next time he closed his eyes he saw the inside of a room. A frightening dark blue face shouted something unintelligible at him and prodded him with burning electricity. Opening his eyes again, he felt a layer of sweat coating his body, and his breath came in frantic gasps. His hands gripped the sides of the chair, and he struggled to breathe through his nose to get his breathing under control. Commander Riker and Counselor Troi stood over him with frightened expressions. "Sir," said Riker. "We need to get you to sickbay. You're obviously not well."

"Nothing—nothing is obvious…" he gasped.

Riker glanced at Troi. "Sir?"

Picard blinked rapidly. "I'm alright," he said, pushing himself up out of the chair, and staggering in between the two officers.

Worf began to walk down the ramp. Picard pointed at tactical. "Did I order you to leave your post, Lieutenant?"

Worf stopped and placed his hands behind his back. "Sir, if you require assistance—"

"I do _not_ require assistance," Picard shouted suddenly. The voices around him on the bridge hushed. He glanced around the bridge and saw familiar faces, but there were others here too. He squinted. The short squat creature with the blue face was here somewhere…on his bridge. But where was it? The smell of the room was still in his nostrils. The smell of his own blood. He reached and touched his ribs where the electric prod had seared into his flesh. They felt fine now… normal. "I'm fine," he assured his first officer. Riker shook his head briefly, but said nothing.

Picard turned then and looked at the forward view screen. They were supposed to be traveling at impulse power out of the system. The stars should have been streaking by lazily. But instead there was some kind of distortion ahead of the ship. It appeared as though the stars were being sucked away and into the distortion. He glanced at Riker sharply. "Do you see that?"

Riker turned to look at the view screen. _See what?_ "No sir." He looked back at Picard.

"Data, run a sensor sweep," Picard ordered Data.

Data nodded. "It would help me to configure the sensor sweep if I knew what you would like the sensors to search for sir."

Picard turned back to the screen. The distortion was gone. He turned to Data. "Check for gravitational anomalies. Understood?"

"Aye sir."

Picard headed for his ready room, but Riker stood in his way. "Sir," he said worriedly in a quiet voice. "I don't think you should be alone right now. You need to rest, sir."

Picard stared at him defiantly. But something rang true in Riker's statement. Whatever he saw on the screen and in his mind must have been manifestations of stress and fatigue. They were not real. He nodded. "I don't need anyone to keep watch over me, Number One. But you're right, I am quite fatigued…I'll be in my quarters. Send the results of the sensor sweep to my private terminal as soon as it's available."

"Aye sir."

* * *

**Fifteen minutes later…**

Picard stood in his quarters leaning against one of the view ports. The Enterprise continued to travel through the system at a reasonable speed awaiting the next order from Starfleet. There was no point in rushing away, or was there? Had the distortion been real or a figment of his imagination? He felt better now than when he'd been on the bridge. For the moment the awful images and sensations were gone. But now it seemed his bridge crew believed he had experienced some kind of panic attack. There was no point in being embarrassed. It had happened and now he would move on. He leaned his head against the glass. He was always amazed at how the chill of space penetrated even the thickest of materials. His communicator beeped and he straightened. "Picard here."

"Data here, Captain. Is this an appropriate time, sir?"

Picard smiled slightly. Data and his observation of human etiquette.

"Go ahead, Mr. Data."

"_I ran the sensor sweep, sir. The results were interesting, but not of immediate concern."_ Data paused. _"I first conducted a general sweep and found nothing of note. But then calculating backward from when you first asked Commander Riker to look at the view screen, I specifically targeted the region of space the Enterprise was passing through in that instant, searching for gravitational anomalies as you requested, sir."_

"And what did you find?" Picard prompted. It was unlike Data to hesitate, and certainly unlike him to withhold information.

"_A pocket of gravitons, sir."_

"Which indicates…?"

"_Indicating the residue from a gravitational wave, sir. As you suggested._"

"Exact coordinates?"

Again the uncharacteristic hesitation.

_"16453/452.45, sir."_

Picard closed his eyes and felt a rush as though he was going to fall. He saw the bridge of the _Stargazer_ very clearly. And then he saw the distortion—that same anomaly again. He gasped and opened his eyes. "What?" The numbers Data had just listed were the exact coordinates of the Battle of Maxia.

"_The coordinates were _16453/452.45_ sir—"_

"I _know_, Data, I heard you. But what—" he turned around at the sound of the door to his quarters opening. He sighed inwardly. It was Beverly, and she was carrying her med kit. He turned back to stare out the window again, continuing his conversation with Data, lowering his voice as she walked up behind him. "But what does that mean, Data? Why would a pocket of detectable gravitons be in that area of space?" He turned and looked at Beverly and then rubbed the back of his head. She looked agitated and worried at the same time, but remained quiet while he conversed with Data.

"_Unknown, sir. The sensors originally missed it because it is simply residue of something that was once here. While there appears to have been a gravitational wave of some kind, for example a pulsar or black hole, there have been no occurrences of such phenomena in the recorded history of this region."_

"I should know, Data, I mapped this region on the _Stargazer_ twelve years ago," he said. "So there is nothing actually there…I don't understand, Data."

"_The sensors are in effect showing us something that once was, Captain. You are correct in that there actually is nothing of consequence there now." _

He looked out the window again. Beverly walked forward and placed her palm against the glass, following his gaze. And that was when he made the decision that would mean the end of his career. "Turn the ship around, Data."

_"Sir?"_

"You heard me. Have helm turn the ship around and return to the coordinates you specified. Inform me as soon as we arrive. Picard out."

* * *

Beverly placed her med kit on the coffee table and sat down in a chair. She leaned forward and clasped her hands between her knees, looking up at him.

He turned to look at her. "Aren't you going to ask me if I'm sure about what I'm doing? Everyone else seems to be questioning my competency."

She squeezed her hands together looking uncomfortable. "You're the last person I would ever ask that question to," she said simply.

He walked over and sat down across from her. "But you're here aren't you? You're here because Riker and Troi told you I was acting strangely."

"Were you?" She looked at him pointedly.

He sighed and leaned back against the couch rolling his eyes up at the ceiling.

"Jean-Luc, I was told you said you were going to be resting in your quarters. I come in and you're arguing gravitational theory with Data…and now we're headed back to Maxia. Is this what you call resting?"

"So you admit you were coming to check on me," he said.

"Yes…is that a problem?"

He looked down at his hands and exhaled. "No. Of course not. It's your job…I'm sorry if I was short with you."

She reached out and put a hand on his knee. "I'm not here because it's my job, Jean-Luc. You're my friend and I care about you. I'm worried...Will said—"

He stood up abruptly, and she jerked her hand back. "Can't a man have a moment of weakness?" he blurted out. "Can't I close my eyes for a mere moment on my own bridge without someone being concerned about my mental well-being?" He put his palms over his face briefly and then dropped them, looking down at her. "I told them both that I was fine," he muttered, staring down at the floor.

"Jean-Luc…if you are tired and tense that could certainly account for a break in concentration on the bridge." She stood up and took his hands in hers. "And there is nothing remotely weak about you."

He looked at her, again grateful for her support. "I thought you were going to come in and order me to sick bay," he said.

She nodded toward the med kit on the table, still holding his hands. "I always come prepared for potential house calls. I could give you something to help you sleep, but judging by what you said to Data it seems you have other plans whether I like it or not."

He smiled and held her hands more tightly, not knowing what else to do now that she was this close to him. "I do appreciate you being here. I was thinking earlier about our dinner last night."

She broke into a slow smile. "Oh?"

"And I enjoyed holding your hand."

"You're holding my hand right now," she observed. "Are you still enjoying it?"

"Yes," he said. "I'm living in the present. As you suggested."

She gave a little shrug. "I'm so smart…."

"You're brilliant," he said. Letting go of her hands he wrapped his arms around her spontaneously in a hug. He hadn't planned it; it just happened. She tensed momentarily in surprise but then gave a small sigh, relaxing into his embrace.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

* * *

**2367 Starfleet Headquarters (present day)**

"What kind of deal did you broker with the Malkatans?"

Kad shrugged and turned his bored gaze to look over Worf's shoulder.

"Did the Malkatans shoot you in the face? If so, it appears to be an improvement…."

Kad remained silent.

"_Tell_ me what you know of the Malkatans," demanded Worf.

Kad scowled. "I never said I _knew _anything of them," he said.

"Do not attempt to mislead me, Kad. We have already established that your personal currency was found at each of the attack sites. And your _petrified_ reaction to the word 'Malkatan' only confirmed my suspicions."

"And how do you know the Malkatans—or whoever they are, are the attackers?

Worf glared at him. "That information is classified."

"So this is how it is…you want something for nothing. Well, Ferengi do not conduct business in such a fashion."

"We are _not_ doing business," said Worf. "I am merely…seeking information. You act as though I am cheating you out of profit."

Kad's eyes widened. "You are! Rule 74 of the Rules of Acquisition: "knowledge is profit". Do you really think I will trade you knowledge for nothing in return? No true Ferengi would allow himself to be swindled in that manner!" He rubbed his hands together. "You must have some kind of currency to work with here, Klingon…or you have the means to find some."

"I do not have any latinum if that is what you seek," growled Worf.

"Then the question remains, Klingon, what could you possibly have that I want?"

* * *

**2367 Somewhere in the Alpha Quadrant (present day)**

Beverly Crusher sipped carefully at a very hot cup of "coffee". The replicators on this runabout were not a match for those on the _Enterprise_ and the resulting hot drink was slightly thicker than desired. The Enterprise…its saucer section now floated in space dock—a glorified storage unit. Plans to rebuild it were no doubt halted by the oncoming threat of invasion. She didn't like to think about her former home because it only made her think of how happy she was on the verge of becoming when it all fell apart. "How long until we reach the Maxia Sector, Data?" she asked, holding up a portable star chart, which showed their location as a tiny moving sliver of light.

"At our current velocity of warp 4.5, twenty-six hours, twenty-two minutes, Doctor," said Data, turning slightly in the co-pilot's seat.

She put the star chart down. "Can't we go any faster?"

Geordi creased his forehead. "Doctor I wouldn't advise pushing it with this thing. Warp five is the limit in a runabout and we don't have the kind of resources we would have on a starship if something goes wrong. "

She nodded. "Alright, Geordi, that's fine." She was on edge, but she wasn't going to question the engineer's professional judgment. At least for now. At the back of her mind a voice told her that she would do anything to find Jean-Luc, even if it meant alienating the rest of her friends. She hoped that it would not come to that. She still felt the urgency but the desperation was gone, now that she knew they were headed to Maxia. What they were to do once they arrived, she had no idea. But in a way she knew she would be closer to him there. And that comforted her. Now she was waiting for the Traveler to present himself—to explain what they had to do next.

She was cognizant of the fact that she was the ranking officer on board the little ship, and so far everyone had followed her lead without question. She was also quite aware that they had all put their careers and potentially their lives on the line for her—because of her hunch. So far they hadn't questioned coming out to Maxia, but there was an unspoken collective tension. Everyone including her was waiting for what would happen next. Suffice it to say no one expected that Worf would be calling them.

"Incoming subspace communication," Wesley reported from the communications console. "It's from Starfleet security at Headquarters."

Beverly put her coffee down and walked over to stand behind her son. Worf's image blinked onto the screen. He nodded seriously. "Hello Doctor…Wesley."

"Worf," they said in unison, genuinely surprised to see him.

"I should not be contacting you, Doctor. However, I felt compelled to do so. I fear that I will not be able to detain the Ferengi much longer due to recent interference by Ferengi Alliance representatives who are demanding his return. In fact my superiors reprimanded me for keeping him so long, as he has been highly uncooperative. In particular they do not appreciate my desire to know how Kad came into possession of the Captain's old Starfleet badge. Even more disturbingly, memories of Captain Picard have been…altered."

Crusher sat down heavily. "What do you mean, Worf?"

Worf lowered his voice, glancing behind him as though he was being watched. "I have come to realize in just the last several hours that Captain Picard is but a distant memory to most people here at Headquarters. They believe that he and the Stargazer went missing twelve years ago, and along with Admiral Nechayev, has been presumed dead ever since. This reality is all very normal to them."

Wesley pressed his lips together and glanced at his mother. "Mom, that's consistent with the Admiral going missing, and no one in my tactics class knowing about the Picard Maneuver. It's because somehow the past has been changed so that the Captain never survived the battle at Maxia. But why?"

"Alynna Nechayev knew Jean-Luc since they were younger," said Beverly slowly. "If she went to try to save him in the altered past…." She turned and looked at Troi, who had walked forward from the sleeping area on the ship. "Deanna can you look in the ship's memory banks and see what you can find out about Captain Picard and Admiral Nechayev?"

Troi nodded. "Of course," she said picking up her data pad and moving to a work station.

"There is something else you should know," said Worf. "I believe the people Kad was running from—the people who shot him, are called Malkatans. These are also the aliens who have been attacking Federation citizens without provocation. They use some kind of mode of travel that we have not yet been able to trace."

"If Kad is lying about how he got the Captain's badge, then that means he might know how we can find the Captain," Geordi suggested from the pilot's seat.

"Yes, but as I said, I am unable to legally hold Kad any longer," said Worf.

Wesley suddenly stood up. "Look we can't wait for some shady Ferengi to tell us what to do…the Traveler said that Captain Picard was killed in the past and that is why he disappeared that day in Hawaii. The _only _way to get to the Captain is to go into the past and save him! It's the only way to fix history and bring him back to us." He looked down to find his hands shaking, and his mother grabbed his hand in hers with a gentle smile, silently urging him to sit down, which he did.

"If in your search for the Captain, you find out more about the Malkatans, please let me know. I fear that an attack on Earth is imminent." said Worf gravely. "Good luck."

"Good luck to you too, Worf," said Beverly.

* * *

**2355 Malkatan Base**

General Unh walked into the weapons control center of the northern wing of the base. "Has the ship been destroyed?" He demanded of the weapons officer in charge.

"Yes, General. It entered orbit and we fired the plasma cannons immediately once the Singularity Net took hold of it."

"Was it a starship? Like the one Picard commands?"

"It was, sir. But its shields were substantially weaker than the _Stargazer's_."

General Unh smiled. "Do you have a captured image in your data banks?"

"Yes, General."

"Good. I will show Picard that even his powerful friends are prevented from reaching him here on our world. Send the image to my communications center."

* * *

**Hi, thanks for continuing to read and review. I note from some of the reviews that the time shifting may be confusing. I did not intend it to be that way, but the plot is kind of complex and after all it does involve some time travel and offers a look at how the future could be different by just a few changed events. For me it makes more sense to tell the story this way rather than in a linear manner where one event simply follows the other. This way I intend to explain how things fell apart for the crew. It's my hope that eventually, if you stick with the story, the plot will make more sense. Yes there are definitely a few twists coming. Hope you are enjoying it still, and please review as feedback is always appreciated. -PP**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

* * *

**USS Enterprise 2367 (About 4 months ago)**

Data turned and looked up at Commander Riker. Neither one of them understood why Picard had ordered them back to Maxia. Riker turned to Wesley Crusher at the helm. "You heard the Captain, Ensign…turn the ship around. Warp six."

"Aye sir, plotting a course for the Maxia Zeta System. At warp six we will arrive at those coordinates in 25 minutes."

Riker nodded and turned back to Data and put a hand on the back of his chair leaning on it for support. He spoke quietly. "Data, you just told Captain Picard that the sensors picked up residue from a gravitational wave—residue that the sensors actually missed until you tried a second time."

Data looked up at him. "That is correct, Commander."

"And so how did the Captain see something that shouldn't have been detectable by human eyes?"

"I do not know sir. Perhaps we should ask Captain Picard that question."

Wesley mumbled something from the helm.

"Do you have something to _add_ Mr. Crusher?" Riker asked looking sharply at the teenager.

Wesley shifted uncomfortably at his post, knowing he had spoken out of turn. Commander Riker usually had a good sense of humor, but on the bridge and under these circumstances his gaze was particularly intense. "Just that…well maybe he had a gut feeling sir," Wesley offered. "That something was out there."

Riker didn't respond because it simply wasn't appropriate to discuss the Captain's motivations any further. He just patted Wesley on the shoulder before walking back to sit down in the Captain's chair. Riker had no idea why Captain Picard believed a non-existent gravitational anomaly was worth returning to Maxia Zeta, but above all he trusted the Captain's good judgment. Still he couldn't shake the feeling that something very bad was about to happen. He turned his head to look at Troi and it was clear she understood and possibly shared his troubled thoughts.

"Would you like to discuss your concerns, sir?" she said evenly.

He nodded and stood up, heading for the conference room, as Troi followed. "You have the bridge, Data."

* * *

"Deanna I think it goes without saying that we're both worried. What are you sensing from him?"

"Anxiousness, frustration…fear."

"Fear? Why?"

"I don't know, Will. Perhaps it is his fear of seeing something that no one else has. Perhaps it is his fear that he is quickly losing his mind."

Riker stared at her. _Please don't make me ask the question_, he thought.

Deanna nodded. "He truly believes that he saw something back there…some kind of anomaly. And for reasons that are unclear, it is very significant to him, such that he feels compelled to return."

"It certainly would have to be for him to order us to return to see something that Data just reassured him doesn't exist anymore," said Riker.

"Yes," said Deanna.

* * *

When Beverly pulled away from his embrace, she looked into his eyes searchingly. "I can honestly say, that I did not expect that, Jean-Luc. You've never been much of a hugging person, you know."

He nodded as he let her go. "It was inappropriate. And…I apologize," he said, stepping away.

She followed him. "What's going on here Jean-Luc? One minute you are expressing your feelings to me—in a very refreshing way—and in the next moment you are apologizing for it."

He turned back to her abruptly and she almost ran into him. They stood almost nose to nose. "Since last night I have felt extremely unsettled," he admitted quietly. As he spoke the odd shifting feeling he had felt on the bridge began to return. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

"Why? I thought you enjoyed our dinner last night."

He tried to concentrate. "I did, very much. But…something about this region of space has caused me a degree of uncertainty. Should something happen at Maxia I feel the need to express to you things that I never—well you see,—" He broke off and shook his head. He wasn't making any sense. Soon they would arrive at Maxia and he needed to return to the bridge. He turned to leave, but she grabbed his forearm bringing him back around to face her.

"Are you going to tell me what happened up on the bridge?" she said softly but firmly. "What is going _on _with you?"

He closed his eyes and saw the blue-faced alien again. It was laughing at him with a mouth full of sharp yellow teeth. Opening his eyes, he tried to shake the image and the feeling that the alien was in the room there with them. "I really—I really cannot say, Beverly." He looked up at her. "Because I don't know."

"Then what do you mean when you say something might happen at Maxia? Nothing has to_ happen _Jean-Luc, because we don't _have _to go back there. Let's leave this place behind us. It's given us both so much pain. _Please_," she said taking his hand.

He brought his fist up to tap his forehead and he forced a laugh, looking down at the floor. "You see…I can't do that Beverly. Something is compelling me to return. If the ship is at risk, I promise that I'll get us out of danger-we'll exit the sector immediately."

She tried to catch his gaze, but his eyes flicked back and forth as though he were looking for something inside his quarters. "Jean-Luc, listen you are not making sense. Now, I told you that I came here as a friend, but it is my duty to determine the fitness of the crew…especially you. You're putting me in an awkward position here."

He heard the cold laughter again and the burning in his ribs as the image of the black disturbance in space blinked off and on inside his mind with rapid frequency. "I know you're my friend," he said, clutching her hand almost convulsively. "Not just my friend, my best friend," he said resolutely as if it were the only thing he was certain of in that moment.

Tears entered her eyes and she wiped them away self-consciously with a small laugh. "Thank you," she whispered. "Yes I am."

He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek lightly before moving to the door again. "Just trust me, Beverly. I have to do this. I won't do anything to harm my crew, you know that." He headed for the door again.

"Jean-Luc, wait. In case something does happen..."

He halted and waited for her to speak.

"Last night after dinner—before Riker interrupted us. I wanted to kiss you," she admitted. She took a deep breath. "Did you want me to?"

He smiled at her. "Yes."

* * *

"Captain we've reached the coordinates you specified," Riker said, turning to see Picard walk onto the bridge.

"Very good, Number One," he said nodding at Counselor Troi as he settled into his chair. She watched him carefully, with her hands in her lap.

"How do you feel, sir?" she asked.

"Focused," he said, staring at the forward view screen.

"May I ask what you are focused on, sir?" she probed.

He didn't answer her but frowned and typed something quickly into his control panel.

"Captain, as you can see, there's nothing here," Riker said, standing off to the side.

"Approaching coordinates at 16453, Captain," reported Wesley.

Picard continued to watch the screen.

"Orders sir?" Riker said. He followed Picard's gaze to the view screen. Not a damn thing was on that screen.

Riker watched as the Captain slowly raised his index finger and pointed it at the screen, and he blinked as if realizing something.

_There it is_, he thought. The distortion was back. He wouldn't say it out loud because he could tell just by looking at them that he was the only one who could see it. He stood up and walked forward. He felt the ship lurch forward. He glanced at Riker. His first officer hadn't noticed. Was it real?

The distortion grew and then shrank again, swirling. It was real. He had been foolish to bring his ship back here. Beverly had been right, as usual. _It's a goddamn black hole and it's going to take us in. _He felt the deck shift and the ship began to shudder as it was being pulled forward. He felt gravity shift and his legs became heavy. It was now or never. He had to act quickly, and he couldn't let on to what he was doing—not yet. If they tried to stop him, time would run out and they would all be dead. He walked back to his command chair, checked the code again, and typed it in quickly. Walking past Counselor Troi without another word, he jogged up the ramp and into the turbo lift.

"Captain!" Riker started to follow him, but the turbo lift doors swished shut.

Data turned from his station at ops. "Sir…Captain Picard has ordered a security lockout of all command functions."

"_What?"_

Worf ran to the turbo lift, but the doors were locked shut, as were the auxiliary exits.

"Tracking Captain Picard's progress, sir," said Data. "He is now in main engineering."

Riker swore to himself and hit his combadge. "Riker to Captain Picard. Captain, what are—"

"_LaForge to bridge. Captain Picard has lowered the blast doors and locked himself in with the warp core, sealing the core off from the rest of main engineering. He's not responding to me, and I can't override the security lock he's put in place on the primary engineering systems down here."_

Riker swore out loud this time. "Data, get to work on an override program."

"Sir, the probability—"

"Just do it, Data!"

"Will," said Deanna. "We don't even know what he's attempting to do."

"We're not going to wait to find out either," said Riker. "At the very least he's reacting to something that isn't there, Deanna." He exhaled loudly. "What the _hell_ is he doing in with the warp core?"

"The Captain has initialized a red alert sequence," Data reported as the bridge was flooded with a red glare.

"_Attention Enterprise crew, this is Captain Picard."_ The bridge crew hushed into tense silence. _"I am attempting to take this ship out of danger. In order for me to do so, all crew, repeat all crew located in the star drive section must begin evacuation procedures to the saucer section immediately. I expect you to do so in an orderly and calm manner within the next ten minutes. Picard out."_

* * *

**Hello! I hope you are still enjoying the story so far. And thanks as always for reading and for your reviews which I enjoy reading. Until next time...** **-PP**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

* * *

**2367 USS Enterprise Four Months Ago**

"Are you going to stand there and watch me do this, LaForge, or are you going to help me?" Picard did not look up as his hands flew over the control panel.

"I can't sir," said Geordi, placing his palms against the blast door. He could see the Captain on the other side.

"You can't what?" he asked, still working quickly.

"Commander Riker has ordered me not to assist you sir. Look sir, what you are doing is very risky. I'm not sure why you're doing it, but you have to know that ejecting the warp core might not work. And the results could be real bad, Captain."

"Which is why," said Picard. "I have ordered the evacuation of the crew to the saucer section…and that includes you Mr. LaForge."

"But why sir?"

"Get out of here, LaForge. That's an order."

"What about you, sir?"

"As soon as I'm through here I'll beam aboard to the saucer. But if this works, I may not need to…because we'll simply be pushed away from danger."

"Sir I can't let you—"

"But you can't stop me either, can you, Geordi? Now _go_!"

The computer began a countdown. "_Warning…warp core ejection systems initialized. Warning…."_

* * *

**Meanwhile on the bridge…**

Beverly rushed onto the bridge. If he was going to do something extreme she should at least be there to support him. She had expected to see him there in the chair, barking out orders. But Riker stood down near the command center, conversing quietly with Troi and Data. Jean-Luc was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Jean—where's Captain Picard?" she demanded, walking down toward them.

Riker held his hands up. "Doctor, he's gone off the deep end."

She put her hands on her hips. "What are you talking about? I know he was adamant about returning here…but I just saw him. He was alright. Then I heard him over the intercom."

"Beverly—"

"What's happened, Will? Deanna?" she turned to her friend with a questioning look.

Wesley had turned around in his seat at the helm and was watching her. He looked helpless.

"Beverly, he's locked himself in engineering," Riker told her. "We think he's planning on ejecting the warp core. The only reason you were able to get up here is that he's enabled access to all points within the saucer section. But right now, he's the only person on the star drive."

"You're not going to just stand here and let him kill himself," she shouted. "I'm going down there," she said, storming back toward the turbo lift.

"You can't Doctor, he's blocked our ability to get to the star drive. He's completely locked out all command functions." Riker nodded to Worf, who moved to intercept Crusher.

"Out of my way, Worf," Beverly demanded.

"Doctor," reasoned Worf as gently as he was capable of. "There is no way to stop him now."

* * *

**2367 Aboard the Runabout 14 hours away from Maxia (Present day)**

Troi tossed the data pad onto the small table. "To put it as simply as possible, we are falling quickly out of time," she said. "Or time is rapidly adjusting to make our lives much different than what they were just four months ago. Most of what is in this database, at least as it applies to Starfleet now, is unfamiliar to me, as it would be to the rest of you," she said.

"Falling out of time?" Geordi repeated as he and the other officers gathered around the table to listen to Troi.

"Yes," she replied. "What was true yesterday, when we were leaving space dock is no longer true today. That is how rapidly things are changing. Quite simply we don't belong in this time any more. We did serve together on the Enterprise…but in this timeline the ship is intact and still out traveling the stars under the command of someone named Captain Jellico. And of course, Will has his own command."

"Jellico?"

"Yes, and apparently when we served together on the Enterprise, Jellico was our commanding officer."

"Because Captain Picard no longer exists," Wesley said quietly.

"Wesley, don't say that," Beverly said, a definite edge to her voice. Her eyes shone with raw anger and emotion.

"But it's true, Mom," he said. "Someone's taken him away from our time."

"Just because it's true, doesn't make it alright for you to say it," she said stiffly, getting up from the table. "I'm going to get some rest. Feel free to continue your conversation, but I don't want to hear anymore," she declared, walking away and leaving them to sit in awkward silence for a few moments.

Geordi cleared his throat eventually. "Counselor, just how different is this reality we're now in?"

"Well, by way of example…six months ago, the Borg attacked, but without Captain Picard's stolen knowledge and therefore without Locutus, the invasion was not as catastrophic as we knew it to be. Certainly the loss of life was not on the scale we remember it to be."

Geordi sighed. "Well, at least that's one positive thing," he said.

"I recommend we maintain whatever connections we still have to our former lives," said Troi. "And that means contacting Will as soon as possible."

* * *

**2367 **_**USS Aldrin**_

"This image of the Galileo 1 was captured by a passing freighter," Commander Obi said, activating the holo program, and stepping to the side. "Based on the time signature of the vid, and the evidence found at the station we know the freighter passed by just before the attack on the Galileo was carried out." The room went dark and a multi-dimensional image of the tiny research station orbiting the moon Callisto swirled over the conference room table. Obi reached out a glowing gloved hand and made the vid larger.

"I see nothing but a station orbiting Callisto," said Lieutenant Kashirin, sounding bored.

"What exactly are we looking at here, Commander?" Captain Riker asked, trying to sound more patient than his Security Chief. He yawned and tried to get past the feeling that he was being watched. He was slowly becoming used to the fact that CASU was constantly at his side. He'd ordered the robot to remain still while they reviewed the vid taken in the shadow of Jupiter, and it had obediently complied.

Obi spread his fingers and the vid played through, just several seconds' worth of footage.

"Let's see that again, but slow it down this time," Riker said.

Obi nodded. "Watch carefully, I'm going to put some contrast in right…here," he said, pointing to an area between the station and the moon, which at his touch brightened and appeared to churn space in an elliptical motion.

"What _is_ that?" asked the helmsman.

For some reason, a chill of familiarity ran through Riker, but he said nothing. He leaned forward and clasped his hands together.

"Without any further information, I would say it is some kind of singularity," Doctor Mayer suggested from her seat at the side of the conference room.

"Watch this," said Obi, playing the last part of the vid slowly, after playing it through again. He waved his hand and the vid spun slowly 180 degrees. "There," he said. From another angle the image was clear.

Riker turned to his science officer. "Am I seeing that clearly, Meeta?"

Lt. Commander Meeta, the Aldrin's Benzite science officer, was usually quiet; Riker had already come to learn this. But she could also nearly always be counted on to provide a helpful answer. Unable to breathe the nitrogen/oxygen mix existing on board Starfleet vessels, she relied upon an implanted respiration device in her chest, which when working optimally, glowed green through the front of her uniform. She breathed in rather noisily. "The gravitational rotation of the Callisto moon was reversed—if only for a moment," said Meeta. "Confirming the presence of a very powerful and concentrated singularity, as Doctor Mayer suggests."

"Something like this would have to be artificial, wouldn't it?" Commander Obi suggested. "I mean, a black hole doesn't just show up next to a moon and then disappear."

"If it is a black hole," said Meeta, "it is a very peculiar one. One which does not faithfully observe the laws of physics."

"This is some kind of weapon?" Kashirin asked.

"Possible," said Meeta. "But we are unfamiliar with such technology," the Benzite added. "A weapon capable of harnessing the gravitational pull of a planetoid could be devastating."

"But it didn't destroy the Galileo…could it be a ship—or hiding a ship?" Riker asked.

"Whether a ship or a weapon, it represents the work of a highly advanced species," Mayer chimed in again from the corner. Riker pursed his lips in annoyance. He hadn't asked for her input. She was supposed to be babysitting that behemoth of a robot, not meddling with their mission.

"You sound as though you admire the work of this advanced species, Doctor," he said. "But I'll ask you not to forget that whoever is wielding this power killed every single person on the Galileo," he snapped. To his further annoyance, she only raised a half-amused eyebrow in response, and typed something into her data pad.

Riker got to his feet. "Lights," he barked. "Let's adjourn the meeting for now. I want a team to try and track down anything we can on who these Malkatans might possibly be, and I want a second team to study this…singularity effect. I want to know how this thing can be stopped. See Commander Obi as to your team assignments. Dismissed," he said.

* * *

"I hope I didn't throw you off, Captain," Doctor Mayer said, quickly catching up with Riker.

"It's going to take more than a few interruptions from you to shake me, Doctor," Riker said, walking to the turbo lift. CASU had reverted to its less intimidating shape of a smooth-lined box and hummed as it followed him closely. "Does it really need to do that?" he snapped.

"Do what?" she asked stepping into the turbo lift behind him. "CASU is simply following its protocols."

"So far, Doctor I have yet to see a protocol of CASU's that is useful to me as Captain. Deck 23," he said.

She eyed him. "Well, you haven't been a captain for very long, have you?" He shot her a warning glance and she smiled. "Take CASU on your next away team mission, Captain. I assure you that it will exceed your expectations."

Riker adjusted his collar and stared at the turbo lift ceiling.

"What exactly is your problem with me, Captain?"

Riker glanced at her again and then shook his head, but said nothing.

"You watched a few of my lectures didn't you?" She asked with a small smile. "Well, perhaps just a few minutes of a few of my lectures—just enough to form an ill opinion of me."

The turbo lift slowed to a halt and Riker stepped out, with CASU close on his heels. Mayer followed them. "I think you have the wrong impression of me, Captain Riker."

He laughed. "Really…."

"Yes. You think I am a stereotypical ice queen who is arrogant and misguided. Perhaps academically brilliant but naïve…but eventually you assume I will be susceptible to your charms."

Riker's eyes narrowed as he walked down the corridor. "Are you working on your autobiography Doctor? Or maybe the beginnings of a cheesy romance novel? I don't know what you've heard about me, but you might want to re-check your sources."

"Commander Obi trusts me," she said, lifting her chin. "Why don't you?"

Riker laughed again. _Commander Obi has been stymied by the beautiful, stereotypical ice queen, _he thought."Oh…Commander Obi. Commander Obi is a great young officer. Smart, dependable…but he hasn't been around the block like I have," said Riker.

"And you've met more than a few women such as me around that block, have you?"

"This has nothing to do with you being a woman," he said. "It has everything to do with me not be privy to why the _hell_ you are on my ship," he said.

"You were briefed, Captain. I'm here because this is a valuable pilot program for the Fleet."

"Why a pilot program now? When we're being invaded by these…Malkatans?"

Mayer's eyes glinted. "An army of robots like CASU would keep us all safe, Captain."

Riker stopped in mid-step and crossed his arms over his chest facing her. "And who is going to keep us safe from an army of highly advanced robotic soldiers who have evolved from their original programming? Do you realize it has been centuries since Earth has had a standing army? Do you want to go down that road, Doctor? I guess you do, don't you? In fact, I think you'd like to lead us all down that road. But I have no intention of following you."

* * *

_He put his fork down carefully on the table in front of him and wiped his mouth with the crisp cloth napkin. "I have something to tell you, Beverly. It's very important. And I feel that recently you have not been listening to my concerns as you once did."_

"_Oh?" she paused, and took a sip from her glass. "Well, I'm listening now, Jean-Luc. I hope it's not bad news, this time."_

"_Oh no," he said. "On the contrary. I am ready to leave this place…but something is holding me back."_

"_Don't be silly, Jean-Luc, you can do anything you put your mind to. I've seen you get through worse than this."_

_He suddenly slammed his fist on the table. "Don't you see what they are doing to me?" He grabbed the fork with his other hand and thrust it into the table. _

_She didn't flinch, just slowly raised her cobalt blue eyes to his. "There's no need to get upset with me, Jean-Luc," she admonished him gently._

"_You just sit here and eat croissants while they torture me," he cried out. "Why don't you help me, Beverly?" His lips trembled._

_She fixed him with her serious gaze. "Why don't you help yourself, Jean-Luc? I've been telling you all along that you need to help yourself if you are going to live."_

He gasped and sucked in the cloudy water again and again. He was drowning, drifting, his arms floating on the surface of the grimy liquid. But then her voice was in his head…_if you are going to live_. The heavy hands continued to hold his head and shoulders underwater, but the strength came from somewhere. Blowing out through his nose, the tub filled with a rush of air bubbles from his lungs. This reminded him that he was alive. He opened his eyes underwater and screamed, grabbing the sides of the filthy tub with his hands and pushing backward. He fell on top of the Malkatan guard, into a slippery heap on the floor. He was still alive. And as long as he was alive, there was a chance of escape and return home; back to her.

* * *

****Side note: If you read the previous chapter where Bok is recalling his plot to take down Picard it says he traveled back in time five months ago; the Enterprise was wrecked four months ago. That suggests that at the time Picard ditches the Enterprise believing he sees the black hole, Bok has already altered the past. The reason Picard is the only one who sees the distortion is the same reason he is seeing glimpses of the Malkatans-because his past self has already been abducted by them in 2355 due to Bok's interference. So basically dude is losing his mind, big time, and who can blame him! The Traveler's role will be discussed in the next chapter. Thanks, guys, peace out. -PP**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

* * *

He was avoiding her so stubbornly that Beverly was starting to question whether he was actually home after all. Maybe in a last minute attempt to avoid her he had skipped town. Still she continued to pound her fist on his front door. "I know you're in there, Jean-Luc," she persisted. "I called you yesterday to tell you I was coming here. The _least_ you could do is just talk to me for a few minutes." There was still no answer and she touched her forehead against the door in frustration, and then turned around leaning back against it.

She really needed to get her emotions under control. She exhaled and looked around his backyard. Breathing in the warm breeze she felt herself calming considerably. The secluded mountainside was breathtakingly beautiful, the air fragrant and moist. Her eyes scanned tiny tufts of greenery emerging from the rich dark soil in neat little rows. Some lettuce had sprung up, but unused to seeing plants grow naturally she recognized little else. When she had last spoken to Jean-Luc he'd said he was thinking of starting a vineyard. It looked as though he had begun some planting, but it also looked as though he had stopped abruptly—that he had been interrupted in his labors.

During the first month after the Enterprise had been decommissioned, and the court martial had been concluded, they had kept in touch. For a time she had even believed that they were growing closer, despite his increasing depression and lingering guilt about the incident at Maxia. They had been physically intimate, although they hadn't yet made love. In fact that had been the night that he had left her apartment suddenly, and that had been the last time she had seen him in person. He had moved away from San Francisco shortly afterward and for the most part had stopped communicating with everyone but her. Their communication had been limited to calls, and then gradually these became more awkward and much less frequent until just a few weeks ago, when he had stopped answering her calls altogether. So she had flown to Hawaii for an explanation. She deserved some kind of explanation, didn't she?

"I didn't ask you to come all the way here, Beverly…."

She jumped, startled by the sound of his voice and turned back around to face the door again. She smiled, relieved that he was there. He was alright. Beverly took a deep breath and leaned forward with her palms on the door. "You haven't answered my calls in two weeks, Jean-Luc. Did you just expect me to give up and go away?"

"No…but now I regret that I have to ask you to do just that," he said. His voice was still deep, but his words were slower—he sounded ill, almost drugged.

"Oh, Jean-Luc…of all the ludicrous things to _say_." She paused and realized she would need to change her tone if he was ever going to listen to her. "Look…whatever you're going through, whatever you're thinking, we can go through it together," she insisted.

"I don't…I don't want you to experience what I am going through. You cannot help me Beverly. No one can," he said. She had never heard defeat in his voice before now.

She sighed and leaned her cheek against the door. Why wouldn't he let her _in_? "What is happening to you, Jean-Luc? Why won't you tell me?"

"It's not fair to you," he said. "It's better this way."

She ran her hand down the smooth surface of the door. "At least open the door so that I can see your face," she said, not caring that she sounded like she was pleading with him—because she was.

"I can't," he said from the other side of the door. He leaned against the door and stared down at his trembling hands. He caught his reflection in a mirror nearby. He was unkempt and unshaven, and salt and pepper stubble covered his face. His hands shook so much recently he hadn't been able to shave properly, and no longer considered it even worth attempting. His clothes hung loosely off of his increasingly gaunt frame. He appeared as though he was wasting away—and as far as he knew he was. He closed his eyes as a wave of disorientation passed over him and his own feet faded into nothingness before his eyes. He breathed through it steadily, as he had so many times lately and gradually his boots reappeared. How long before he completely disappeared? And to where?

"Is this about what happened between us last month?" she was asking. He closed his eyes again. They had been together in her apartment; it had been one of the most wonderful experiences of his life, and then his body had begun to phase. He recalled that he could feel the phase happening as she ran her hands over his skin. She had wanted to be with him; she had made that as clear as possible. And he was as elated as he was frightened that night.

But then it had begun to take him over; this strange affliction that took him from one place to another. Except in the other place he was a younger version of himself, at least he wore his old Stargazer uniform, and he was surrounded by hideous and cruel aliens, bent on torturing him. It wasn't a memory—he didn't know what it was. But whatever it was, it was getting worse.

"No, Beverly, it's not about that night. That night in your apartment was wonderful. Truly…."

"But you never…you never told me why you left. And we never talked about it again. I just assumed that it was something I did wrong," she said.

He put a hand over his eyes, feeling the tears threatening to escape. "No…it wasn't you. But I can't be the man you need me to be, Beverly. I'm sorry…."

"You already are what I need. Look, Jean-Luc…I know that you are still hurting from what happened to the Enterprise. But the crew is alright. The ship can be rebuilt. If you want the Enterprise back, you just need to fight for it, Jean-Luc. I know you didn't want to retire…they forced you out. But these are things that can be undone. And I can help you. I promise I will."

"It's too late," he sighed, sounding utterly lost.

She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against the door. "It's not too late. Not as long as we're both here. The only thing that is separating us is this goddamn door. Now will you just stop being so stubborn and open it?" She pressed her fist against it.

"It's no use," he said. His voice sounded like it was moving away from the door.

"Jean-Luc, I love you," she declared. "I know I should have said it before." He was silent. "And I know you love me too. I've known it for so many years; I can't even remember when I first realized it."

He remained silent. Had he walked away? Was he just going to give up like that?

Suddenly overwhelmed by her own fury, she slammed the side of her fist into the door. "I love you, and even if you give up on yourself I'm not going to give up on you. Never…do you hear me?"

* * *

Beverly Crusher stirred in her sleep. She called out his name, and woke herself up from the sound of her own voice. In her dream they were holding each other close. As she awoke groggily, finding that it was just a pillow and not Jean-Luc, she hugged it tighter and tried to fall back asleep. But the cold reality of where she was, and that she was alone, along with the thrum of the runabout's propulsion systems, kept her awake. She stared wide-eyed into the darkness of her sleep compartment. "I don't know if I can do this, Jean-Luc," she whispered. They had never truly held each other close in real life, and now it was too late and he was gone.

In reality he had never opened door, never embraced her, as he had in the dream. She had finally retreated to San Francisco, hurt and angry. She'd attempted to contact him again, with no luck. The next thing she knew, his suicide had been announced. The very thought was still unthinkable, and now she knew it wasn't at all true. Instead he had been stolen away, and the past had been perverted to cause his death twelve years before.

She wondered what would have happened that day, if he had let her inside to talk. Would they have been able to spend those last few weeks together at least? Even some semblance of happiness could have been enough for her, for just a few weeks, if in fact he was to disappear forever. "But there is still a chance…it's not forever, is it?" she whispered again in the darkness.

"No," said a calm voice. "It may still be possible to reverse the damage that has been done." She blinked into the darkness as the Traveler crouched down next to her bunk. She jerked upward, nearly hitting her head on the top of the sleep compartment.

The Traveler reached his hand outward. "Please, Doctor, do be careful."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

* * *

**2355 Malkatan Base (Altered Reality)**

"This tiny piece of machinery is much more complicated than we first anticipated," said General Unh, holding the tricorder just inches from Picard's face. "More complicated than this one," he added, putting the phaser in his other hand up to Picard's temple.

Picard rolled his eyes toward the tricorder. "It's not a weapon," he said thickly. "So it should be of no interest to you," he said trying to jerk his head away.

General Unh pushed the phaser further into his temple.  
"What is it going to take, Picard, for you to reveal to me the secrets of your technology? Shall I kill your entire crew?"

"I don't believe even you would sink to such depths," said Picard. His voice was barely above a whisper. His throat burned and his whole body ached from being held under water and nearly drowned by the Malkatan guards. "What makes you think you would understand the properties of our technology if I explained it to you? Perhaps there is a good reason why you haven't achieved this technology yet, General. To force your natural evolution could have disastrous consequences."

"So judgmental, is your species." General Unh laughed and stepped away, sweeping his long black hair over his shoulder. "Your will is much stronger than we originally thought possible. It is no wonder Bok has taken so much pleasure in your capture and humiliation." He turned and grinned with his yellow teeth. "You are quite a prize, Picard." He put down the phaser and tricorder on a nearby table. With a backwards glance at Picard he turned on the view screen which suspended from the ceiling in the center of the room. "I suppose you think your value as an officer will cause your Starfleet comrades to search for you…and you would be right about that, Picard," said the General.

He turned to watch Picard's expression as a sleek starship appeared on the screen. It appeared to be in orbit, as the angle of the camera was from below. The camera moved in closer.

Picard's hands twitched and he strained forward. It was Alynna Nechayev's ship, _USS_ _Valor_. She'd come to rescue him. "No," he said, struggling in the restraints.

"What do you mean 'no', Picard? I thought you would be happy to see your friends."

General Unh pressed a control and the sleek starship was struck by several orange beams of energy, blowing it to pieces. Picard didn't need to know this was a recording. No…let him believe that Unh had such great power through a single sweep of his hand.

"No, No!" Picard struggled against the restraints again, the skin around his wrists now raw with useless exertion. "I'll _kill_ you!" he screamed. He sucked in a gasping breath. "You bastard," he whispered.

General Unh shut off the view screen. "You see, Picard? There is no hope at all for your rescue. Even a mighty battleship is no match for the weapons of my planet. You are trapped here. Your own death has already been foreseen, Picard—it is unchangeable and set in stone. But for the rest of your crew there may yet be a way out."

"I don't believe you," Picard rasped. He stared at the General, whose smile remained fixed as he watched Picard think it through. "You would set them free?"

"Instruct your crew to show us how to operate your ship, and I will set them free—they can take the life pods to safety. We will not fire on them. But if you fail to convince them to help us, I will kill them all. And in their last thoughts they will know it was you who failed them Picard."

Picard leaned his head back against the table, falling into silence. Perhaps he was doomed but could still save his crew. Before now he had only thought of escape together. But maybe this was the only way. "Let me speak to my officers. And I will convince them to help you."

* * *

**2367 Present Day-Nine hours away from Maxia**

"Mom? Are you okay?" Wesley stepped into the tiny room with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He stopped short, seeing the Traveler sitting cross-legged on the floor. His mother sat up with her legs hanging over the side of her sleeping bunk. She looked up at him as he walked in and smiled slightly. She looked at the Traveler for guidance.

"Wesley's input would be ideal," said the Traveler quietly.

Wesley walked over and sat down beside his mother silently.

"What I am about to tell you both may cause you some upset," said the Traveler. "I only hope that you will understand, and will be able to constructively use your emotion to do what must be done."

Beverly and Wesley looked at each other in confusion.

"Three years ago after we first met as a result of Krasinski's experiments with propulsion, I met with Captain Picard privately in sick bay."

Beverly frowned. "Yes…I remember that."

"I told Captain Picard how you were gifted, Wesley. How you are a genius who needed both guidance and freedom to grow into your abilities. I explained that he must never tell you of this."

"That's why he made me an acting ensign that day!"

The Traveler nodded. "But he would not have done so, Wesley if he did not believe in you himself. Picard saw the same things in you that I did. I simply convinced him of his own instincts."

"So if you didn't want Wesley to know any of this…why are you telling us now?" Beverly asked quietly.

"Because Wesley needs to believe in his ability to cause change through the power of thought." He leveled his gaze at her. "As do you, Doctor."

Beverly laughed nervously. "Me?" she said putting a hand to her chest.

The Traveler nodded. "You both must come to a decision; how best to save Picard in the past, thus restoring the present and ensuring that there is a future."

Wesley shook his head in confusion. "I thought you were going to show us—I thought you were going to help us travel to the past."

"I will help you to phase into the past," agreed the Traveler. "But I will not make the decision for you as to when you must arrive in the past, nor will I tell you what must be done when you arrive there."

Beverly felt her confusion already turning to outrage. "I don't understand. What if we make the wrong decision and permanently alter the future—for the worse?"

"That is a very real possibility," admitted the Traveler.

Beverly stood up, wrenching herself from Wesley's grasp. "Wait…just a minute…are you telling me that after all this we are completely on our own? If you think that I am going to allow my son to go into the past and risk his life without more than a 'maybe' as protection from you—"

"I never said it should be Wesley to go into the past," said the Traveler calmly.

Beverly paused, looked down at her son and then ran her hands through her hair in frustration. "I don't know…I can't even think straight."

Wesley tugged at her hand. "Mom…it's going to be okay. Sit down," he implored her quietly.

She looked at him again and then exhaled loudly, sitting down heavily next to him. She stared at the Traveler as if to say "well?".

"The reason why I must not influence you and Wesley, Doctor, is that I have already done so much damage."

"What do you mean?" Wesley asked. "I doubt you could ever do harm on purpose."

The Traveler smiled at the boy's generous nature. "When I was young…as you are now, Wesley, I was foolish. I had no important guiding figures in my life like your mother, or Captain Picard. I cared only about traveling through the cosmos without care of any potential consequences. I enjoyed the freedom and the powerful sensations my mind and body experienced during my exploration through time and space. To some extent that is still the way I am."

"During one of these travels, I unknowingly set loose an ancient weapon—a trap really. It drifted for eons. This is the trap that the Ferengi later encountered and used for profit. It is a powerful energy source of unclear but artificial origins, resembling what we understand a black hole to be. But it is one that can be harnessed for use as weaponry."

"The Ferengi saw only its material value, and they too ignored the consequences, exploiting it for many years. This is the trap which was used by time traveling Ferengi to lure the Stargazer in 2355, thereby altering time as we know it, and causing Captain Picard's disappearance from the present. They call this trap the Singularity Net."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

* * *

Beverly stood up again, standing over the Traveler, who continued to look up at her placidly. "So now, I have someone to blame…finally. Unfortunately, I don't feel the least bit of satisfaction," she said tightly. She pointed at the bulkhead. "Get the hell out of here," she ordered the Traveler.

"Mom…"

"Wesley, don't 'Mom' me! You heard what he said. He's responsible for stranding Jean-Luc in the past, and now he won't even fix the problem himself."

The Traveler stood up. "Your emotional reaction is understandable, Doctor," said the Traveler. "But I do not know that I have the capacity to resolve the problem myself."

"But _we_ do? Forgive me, but Wesley and I don't _have_ super powers. We can't go barreling through the universe like you can. You've clearly evolved from the last time we met with you. How did you get in here?"

"I merely phased into the ship from another dimensional plane—"

"Mom, three months ago when you were trapped inside that warp bubble I created, the Traveler and I worked together to bring you back to our reality. You told me later on that by thinking it through you began to solve the mystery of what was happening to you, and you took a chance by jumping into the vortex to escape. Meanwhile I was able to use the power of thought, just as you were. The Traveler didn't solve the problem for us then, because he didn't have to. With the Traveler's help we can do this together…I _know_ we can," Wesley said.

* * *

Will Riker couldn't sleep. The _Aldrin_ was headed to the New Brazil colony. New Brazil was the most remote reported Malkatan attack so far. It was well outside the Terran system, and Riker had been trying to catch up on some rest on the way there. But rest was elusive. The thought of finding yet another Federation interest where everyone had been killed mercilessly was just horrifying. The fact that most of the attacks had stayed so close to Earth was even more frightening, and Riker knew he wasn't the only one who was worried about Earth being the next target.

But there was something else bothering Riker. Just before coming to his quarters he had shared lunch with Commander Obi. Despite continuing to impress Riker as an officer, Obi had said something so strange that Riker had not been able to clear his mind ever since. The topic of conversation had been CASU and the differences between a robot such as CASU and Commander Data, a sentient life form. Riker had admitted his discomfort with the CASU project given his close relationship with Data. Riker had been surprised by Obi's sensitivity on the subject, but then when Obi had gone on to mention the Enterprise and the rest of its crew; Riker had been thrown quickly into confusion. Riker's eyes narrowed, recalling the odd conversation.

"_Did you ever want the Enterprise for yourself?" _Obi had asked. _"You must have heard there were rumors that you did."_

"_What? No. It was always an honor for me to serve with Captain—"_

"_So you didn't actually hate him sir? Captain Jellico? I mean…he's got a reputation, sir. And after what he did…well the rumor was that Jellico refused to engage with the Borg above your objections sir. If the Enterprise had engaged with the lead cube, it might have at least slowed the invasion."_

_Riker studied the young man's face carefully. Of course the Enterprise had engaged the lead Borg cube. They had slowed the Borg down—not enough to prevent the massive deaths that followed Wolf 359, but they had tried. Obi was talking as though the Enterprise had actually avoided the fight. And Jellico? He'd heard of an officer named Jellico, but had never met him. Was this some kind of joke, or a mistake….Riker stared at his First Officer, not sure which of them was losing his mind. _

_Finally it was Commander Obi who retreated. "I'm sorry Captain. I didn't mean to overstep." He rose to his feet. "If you'll excuse me sir, I'll be on the bridge."_

Riker had watched in silence as the man left. Now in his quarters Riker slid behind his desk and began doing some research. "Computer, what is the current posting and brief biographical sketch for Starfleet Captain Jellico?"

"_Captain Edward Jellico…born Mars Colony, 2311. Graduated from Starfleet Academy with honors, 2331, specializing in tactical studies. Current posting, USS Enterprise 1701-D, 2363 to the present. Current assignment—deep space exploration."_

Riker sat in stunned silence. "Computer, who was First Officer assigned to the USS Enterprise between 2364 and 2367?"

"_Commander William T. Riker…current assignment Captain, USS Aldrin."_

Riker tapped his desk nervously. "Computer, give me a brief biography on Captain Jean-Luc Picard."

"_Captain Jean-Luc Picard, born Earth, 2317. Graduated from Starfleet Academy—"_

"Wait, stop," said Riker. "What are the current whereabouts of Captain Jean-Luc Picard?"

"_Captain Picard has been missing and presumed killed in action since May 24, 2355. Last known whereabouts: Maxia Zeta System."_

Riker ran his hand over his face. "I can't believe this," he said.

* * *

"We've got an incoming ship," Geordi's voice announced over the communications system. "Due to intercept in ten minutes," he said and turned around at Data's approach. He swore quietly. "It's a Ferengi Marauder."

Beverly Crusher leaned over Geordi's shoulder. "What are the Ferengi doing here?"

LaForge shook his head. "Don't know, Doctor," he said slowly. "But it's not usually a good sign."

"Right," she said. Beverly glanced behind her. Data, Wesley and Deanna stood side by side. The Traveler was gone.  
"They're hailing us," LaForge reported.

Beverly clenched her fist. "On screen." Then she took a step back, knowing her face would be the first thing the Ferengi would see.

"This is the Ferengi Marauder _Navri_," said a youngish, very presumptuous looking Ferengi decked out in an exorbitant amount of jewels. "Who is in charge of your sad little vessel?"

"I am," Beverly said. "I'm Commander Beverly Crusher. Who are you?"

The Ferengi hesitated. "Who is the highest ranking _male_ on board your vessel?"

Beverly's jaw dropped. "Are you kidding me?" She made a gesture for Geordi to cut the channel. "Is he kidding?" She turned to look at Data who shook his head.

"No, Doctor. Female Ferengi have essentially no social, political or economic rights, and are even prevented by the Ferengi establishment from wearing clothing. It is quite common for Ferengi to attempt to either ignore or avoid female authority figures from other cultures."

Beverly sat down in the navigator's seat next to LaForge, and turned to look at her small crew. "Any idea why they might be out here in this region of space?"

"Unknown, Doctor. However, this is Federation territory, and the Ferengi will view us, despite our small size, as having a slight upper hand," said Data.

"Troi?"

Deanna shrugged. "Unfortunately Ferengi minds are very difficult to read. But…if I had to guess, he has something to offer us, and believes he stands to profit a great deal by giving it to us."

Beverly stared at the blank screen for a few quiet moments. "He's here because of us," she murmured. "They have been expecting us." She glanced back at Wesley. "This has to do with our attempts to find Captain Picard. I'm sure of it." She looked at Geordi. "Reopen the channel please."

Geordi nodded and the screen blinked back on.

* * *

"I do not appreciate being kept waiting," said the Ferengi. "I am accustomed to being serviced by females at the exact time of my choosing," he said with a smile.

Beverly folded her arms in front of her chest. "And _I_ am accustomed to being treated with respect…at all times. And I don't intend to part with tradition Mr….?"

"Brom," said the Ferengi. "My name is Brom. And I wish my name to be famous someday soon. And I believe that I may achieve this if we work together."

This guy was unbelievable. "And why would I want to help you?"

Brom waved to someone off screen. "We both have an interest in bringing a certain criminal to justice." He leaned forward into the screen. "I believe you are familiar with Daimon Bok?"

Beverly took a step back, forgetting her poker face for an instant. Brom saw her break in concentration and smiled. She pulled her tunic down stiffly trying to regain her composure. "Yes…I am."

"Well," said Brom. "I want Bok's career, and…" he snapped his fingers to someone off screen again, and suddenly a familiar Ferengi was in front of the screen. Kad ran his tongue over his sharp teeth and held up Jean-Luc's old Starfleet badge in his tiny palm. "…you want Picard," finished Brom. He wiggled his earlobes at Beverly. "Want to make a _deal_?"


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

* * *

**2367 USS Aldrin**

"Approaching the Tritian system, Captain," said the helmsman. "We will reach New Brazil in six minutes, sir."

Riker said nothing, but watched the screen. "Is the away team ready, Commander?" he asked Obi quietly after a moment.

"Aye sir. I'm taking Lt. Kashirin, two of her security officers, sir."

"I'm coming too," said Riker, still looking at the screen.

Obi leaned forward with his hands on his knees. "Sir, I must caution against you going down to the surface. Eventually sir, the odds are that we're going to run into trouble during one of these colony investigations…and we need you on board the ship, Captain."

Riker smiled slightly. "Your objections and concerns are noted…and appreciated Commander." He looked at Obi carefully. "But I'm going down there."

Obi raised an eyebrow, and leaned back in his chair. "Yes sir."

"Then that means CASU is coming as well," said Dr. Mayer, who was manning a science station. "As am I."

Riker pursed his lips and stared forward but said nothing.

"Entering orbit, Captain," reported the helm.

"Sir, reading a gravitational disturbance," Lt. Commander Meeta said from ops.

"What kind of disturbance?"

Meeta breathed in noisily through her respirator. "…it's gone, Captain. But it was consistent with the graviton residue found surrounding the Galileo 1, sir."

"Sensors not reading anything of note, Captain," said Kashirin at tactical.

"Good," said Riker. "Let's get in there and out as quickly as possible, and then head back to the Terran system. I don't want to leave Earth unprotected." He stood up. "Let's get suited up. Lt. Commander Meeta, you have the conn."

* * *

**2367 Outskirts of the Maxia Zeta System (Present day)**

It had been too much of a risk to beam over to the _Navri_, with so few of them on board the runabout as it was. Thankfully, the Ferengi didn't need any convincing to beam to the runabout. The crew armed themselves with phasers, just in case things turned nasty, but for the first time in days everyone felt a real sense of hope. Did this Ferengi Brom really know where Captain Picard was?

As a concession to the Ferengi preference for male-centered interaction, Beverly sat at a small conference table with Geordi and Data on either side of her, as Brom and Kad sat across from them. Deanna and Wesley sat nearby but out of the way. Aside from several furtive glances around the hold of the small ship, the Ferengi were clearly itching to get down to business. Beverly could think of lots of nasty things to say to Kad, but inside she was desperate to avoid doing anything that would risk losing a chance at finding Jean-Luc.

"What is the Federation penalty for kidnapping and killing a Starfleet officer?" asked Brom. He looked at Data.

Data tilted his head. "Depending on the degree of premeditation and whether other ancillary crimes may be attributed to the accused, punishment consists of a life of incarceration, and in some cases rehabilitation."

Brom scoffed. "No death penalty?"

"No," said Beverly. "Now what are you getting at?"

"Bok is guilty of kidnapping Picard and stranding him to die in the past," said Brom. "And I am living proof."

Geordi frowned. "How so?"

Brom grinned. "Didn't Bok come aboard your ship several years ago and accuse Picard of murdering his son?"

"Yes," said Beverly.

"Well I am Bok's son." He stretched his arms out wide. "And as you can see I am very much alive!"

Beverly stared at him. "How do we know Bok wasn't lying before—that he wasn't just playing some twisted game? For all I know he never even had a son."

Brom gritted his teeth and elbowed Kad. Reluctantly Kad slid Picard's shining badge across the table to Beverly. "Kad picked this right off the chest of the mighty Picard," said Brom.

"Not so mighty now," Kad said with a smirk.

Beverly snatched the badge away, gripping it tightly in her hand. "I thought you said you bought this at an auction, you little—"

Data put a hand on her sleeve. "Doctor…."

Beverly nodded and looked away. She was too angry, too emotional to deal with these two sneering Ferengi right now. But she had to, she reminded herself. She had to do it for him. "You said you've seen him," she said, trying to lighten her tone. "Where is he?"

"He's in the past, 2355 to be exact" said Brom. "He and his ship were captured inside what we call a Singularity Net. And presently—assuming he is still alive—he and his crew are being held on the planet Malkata."

Beverly's hands shook. "What do you mean 'assuming' he's still alive? I thought you wanted to help us find him."

Brom grinned. "I want to see my father pay for his crimes. He has unleashed the Malkatans on the Alpha Quadrant. If he hadn't brokered a deal with them, none of us would be at risk of invasion right now," said Brom. "The Malkatans are not only ignorant, but they are extremely violence prone. In short, Bok was a fool to have introduced advanced weapons technology to such a brutal race. If Picard is alive, my father will still be guilty of kidnapping and attempted murder…if Picard is already dead—your gods rest his soul—then my father is guilty of much worse."

"So you don't care if he's alive or dead," confirmed Beverly.

"If you'd seen him when I did," said Kad. "You might not have such high hopes. He didn't look so good," he added.

Horrified at the images this raised in her mind, Beverly put a hand over her mouth. She felt like she was going to be ill. Deanna had walked up behind her and placed a comforting hand on her upper back.

"And so if your father is convicted of illegal arms dealing, kidnapping and murder, as his first son Brom, you will inherit all of his property," observed Data.

"There is a certain poetic justice to it all," Brom said with a delighted smile.

"And are you trying to tell us that you had no idea what was going on? That your dear old dad saved your behind back in 2355, and you had no idea that Captain Picard was going to be harmed?" Geordi asked skeptically.

"That's right," lied Brom. "My father simply told me to stay away from the Maxia sector that day…and I did."

"I don't believe you," Beverly said standing up and pointing down at the table angrily. "I think you both left him to _die_ and I'll see that you both are tried for murder!"

"Now look here," said Brom, with just a hint of outrage. "I came here in good faith—"

"What's your price, Brom?" Deanna asked from behind Beverly. "What do you really want?"

Brom's pupils grew darker. "I told you…I want my father to pay. I want him out of the way. Ferengi should be driven by greed, not revenge! Bok shamed me, and our entire clan, and for that, he must pay."

"And so you want us to do your dirty work for you," said LaForge. "Wow."

"It's very simple, human. You want to find Picard. I want to expose my father for what he is. Finding Picard will expose my father. Could it be any _simpler_?" Brom implored the ceiling. At his side, Kad shook his head fiercely in agreement with his new boss.

"Exactly how are you going to help us find him?" Beverly demanded.

Brom pulled a small object from his underneath his bejeweled coat. "This. This device neutralizes the effect of the Singularity Net. Give it to Picard, and if he can get to the _Stargazer_ he can escape the clutches of the Malkatans," he said squeezing his hands dramatically in the air. "Once he is free in the past, ensuring that the Malkatans will not kill him as they plan to do—aha—just like that, he will reappear in the present as good as new."

* * *

**2367 New Brazil **

Riker and his away team materialized in the middle of what once was the New Brazil colony. At his side, Commander Obi was ordering his officers to spread out and search for survivors. They had been through this before, and they all knew that this was likely a futile endeavor.

Riker turned his head inside his helmet and looked out across the horizon at the setting sun. Body parts lay strewn about his feet, and he walked slowly and carefully in no particular direction. CASU, which had transformed into its humanoid shape, walked somewhat noisily behind him in the dust. When he halted, CASU halted, matching nearly his every move. He had grown used to what was CASU's protective mode. Doctor Mayer wandered about fifteen feet behind CASU, and every now and then she made a verbal note into her tricorder. In all other respects it was very quiet, as Obi and the other officers continued their survey fifty yards away. Of course it was quiet, he reminded himself. Everyone was dead.

Riker would remember it later as though it was a dream. When the call came in, that is. Because everything else that followed was as real as could be. "Meeta to Captain Riker." His second officer's reedy voice drifted out of his combadge.

"Riker here, what is it Commander?"

"Sir, our sensors are reading a tremendous gravitational surge coming from the opposite side of our orbital pattern."

"Raise shields, Commander. Go to red alert," he snapped.

"Already done, sir. I am more concerned about the away team. I recommend that you return to the ship immediately."

"Why?"

"Sir, the planet's orbit is being influenced by the gravitational disturbance."

"Fine, agreed," said Riker. "Lock onto the away team and beam us up—"

"Sir, something's happening!" Commander Meeta's tone had completely changed within seconds. "Evasive maneuvers," she shouted. "We are being pulled toward the planet's exosphere. Some kind of tractor beam, but the disturbance is on the other side of the planet—full reverse!"

"Meeta," Riker shouted.

"—too powerful," she shouted back before the connection cut out. Riker spun around to see Obi, Kashirin and the others jogging toward him, when the solid ground seemed to liquefy beneath him, and he was falling fast. The land around them was suddenly and swiftly being sucked downward, caving in on itself. _We're being drawn to the planet's core_, he thought almost calmly. _I'm going to die like this_? He tried to flail his arms grabbing at roots and exploding clods of dirt as he sped downward. Looking up into the disappearing sky he thought he saw a glinting silver shape. Was that the _Aldrin_? One by one he saw the other away team members disappearing in transporter beams. _No way they can get a lock on me,_ he thought. _Good bye everyone…. _

There was at thud, and he felt his elbow crack, suddenly gripped in something that felt like a steel vice. His momentum slowed sickeningly, and he felt himself stretch unnaturally before he reversed direction. A shiny featureless plate-like face stared back at him, and he heard the voice of the ship's computer—or rather CASU's voice. "Captain, your life is in danger. Please do not let go of my arm."

Riker felt a rush of air, and then saw CASU's personal shield envelope both of them as they shot back upward. He didn't know CASU had the capacity for flight, but he was definitely elated to discover this. But when they cleared the immense crater that continued to fall into itself, Riker began to doubt their chances of escape, feeling the gravitational force threatening to split him into pieces. But then mercifully the transporter beam took them.

* * *

"Captain," Commander Obi broke into a grin, and steadied Riker as he materialized in a crouching position on the bridge. CASU folded immediately into its boxy shape. Riker leaned back against it. "Thanks," he panted, slapping the robot clumsily on its side. CASU whirred at him but didn't actually respond. His arm was broken, he was sure, but that was the least of their problems. The ship roiled and continued its dizzying plunge toward the surface of the planet.

"Helm, cut propulsion and bring us about 302 mark 45," Riker ordered, throwing himself into the command chair. He gripped his arm and leaned forward. The whole bridge seemed to be shaking as the ship continued to plummet.

"Sir we can't be sure where we'll end up," warned the helm.

"Maximum warp," Riker shouted and then closed his eyes, as the world went bright white. When he opened them again, the familiar black expanse full of streaking stars was a wonderful sight.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

* * *

**2367 Maxia **

Brom and Kad had left them with the neutralizing device and a map of the Malkatan base. Then as quickly as the Ferengi had appeared, they were gone, leaving the former Enterprise crew alone to continue their journey into the Maxia Zeta system.

Data, LaForge and Wesley sat at a work table examining the neutralizing device. Data held up the device studying it carefully. "If this device can in fact be used to minimize the effect of the Singularity net, and the Malkatans are now using a weapon that was developed from the properties of the Singularity Net, this device could be more useful than the Ferengi intended," he said.

"Maybe a modified version of this can be used to counter their weapons?" Wesley speculated.

"Should be easy enough to replicate," agreed Geordi. "Now if only there was a proper way to get this thing to the fleet..."

"If you think we're leaving here anytime soon, think again," said Crusher, who sat facing away from them. Several minutes earlier she had opened her med kit and appeared to be experimenting with several types of medicinal substances. What exactly she was doing was unclear.

"I wouldn't even the think of it, doctor," said Geordi carefully. "It's just that if there's some widespread benefit to this device..." He trailed off as Beverly remained silent, still fiddling with her chemicals.

"Let's call Will," offered Deanna. "Perhaps he can arrange for a replicated version of the device to be picked up by a passing ship." The others nodded their assent and Troi moved to the communications console.

"There is some subspace interference," she said, after activating the console. It was taking longer than it should have. _I pray to the goddess that he is alright,_ she thought.

"_Deanna,_" After a few more tense moments, Will's image appeared on the screen, covered by a layer of static. _"It's so good to see a familiar face. Especially yours,"_ he added with a smile.

"It's good to see you too, Will. We all wish you were here."

"_Even Beverly?_" he asked with a half-smile. "_Has she forgiven me?"_

Deanna glanced at Beverly, who appeared completely immersed in her work, then smiled and moved closer to the view screen. "Yes…I think so."

"_The strangest things are happening out here_," said Riker, shifting uncomfortably. She noted for the first time that his arm was in a sling. _"I have a feeling you know what I'm talking about."_

She nodded grimly. "The changed timeline, yes."

"_Beverly was right,_" Riker said. "_There really is a connection between what happened to the Captain, and what's happening now." _He looked very emotional suddenly. _"I wish we had all stayed together, Deanna._" He swallowed. _"I really do…."_

"There is no point in regretting all of that Will. Are you alright?" Troi asked gently. "Did something happen to you and your crew?"

He nodded tiredly. "_We ran into some trouble-well that is an understatement._" He smiled tightly. "_But we made it. So…I know you weren't only calling to say hello."_

Troi explained as quickly as possible the visit from the Ferengi, Bok's revenge, and the connection between Captain Picard and the Malkatans.

Riker looked legitimately shocked throughout her explanation of recent events. "_Have Data work on a way to improve on the neutralizer. I'm on my way_," said Riker sounding very weary. "_If this thing can help us fight the Malkatans, we need it." _He smiled._ "And since you can't bring it to me, I'll come to you."_

"What about your crew? How are you going to convince them about the importance of coming here…if they are unaware of the changed timeline?"

Riker shrugged. _"I think I am just going to have to finally trust them enough to tell them the truth. Wish me luck,_" he said with a final reflective smile.

* * *

The Traveler reappeared in the middle of another argument among the crew about the problems with travel into the past. It was agreed that any further changes to the timeline should be avoided if possible. Problematic however, was the fact that whoever traveled back in time to find Picard would have to interact with him, thus running the risk of changing time again.

"The Singularity Net has the effect of severe disorientation," said the Traveler. "It is quite possible that Captain Picard has been suffering hallucinations and will not recognize any of you."

"But if he does...won't that change history? Captain Picard isn't supposed to meet most of us before 2364," said Troi.

"And as far as he's concerned I am still five years old," added Wes.

"But the fact is history has already been changed," said Geordi. "Because none of this was supposed to even happen."

"So how do we know the Captain will be...who he used to be when we bring him back?" asked Deanna.

"We don't know...but we have to be willing to take that chance," said Wesley. "I mean, wouldn't Captain Picard want us to take that chance if he was in our position?"

"Wherever possible it would be prudent for us to take steps which would minimize the chances of further affecting the timeline," suggested Data.

"Whatever or whomever is most familiar to Captain Picard, would be the most appropriate choice." All eyes turned cautiously to Beverly.

"That means I need to be the one who goes," she said quietly. "Of course it makes sense."

"I don't think she should go alone," Wesley said quickly, turning to the Traveler for help. But the alien merely continued to look on placidly.

"The decision is not mine to make," said the Traveler. "But I will provide the means for travel."

Beverly reached over and took Wesley's hand. "Wesley, Data's right; if you go it will be clear to the Captain that you're from the future. And he's not supposed to even meet Geordi, Data or Troi until years afterward."

"But is there even a way to do this without lying to the Captain? I mean, how are you going to explain your sudden appearance, Doctor?" Geordi asked. "Where were you in 2355?"

Beverly looked down at her hands. "I um…I was on Earth. With Wesley," she said glancing at her son. She shook herself out of the past and exhaled. "Look, there isn't a way to ensure that we aren't going to make this worse. If I have to…if I have to rely on the fact that he is disoriented, I will. Like the Traveler said, he might not even know that I am real. But frankly, my main concern is finding him and giving him the neutralizer-his chance to get free. I know that's all he will need. A chance."

* * *

**An hour later…**

"The plan is simple," said Beverly. "I'll phase into the Malkatan base with the Traveler's assistance."

"I will need to utilize the motivating thoughts of everyone on board this ship," the Traveler clarified.

"Right," said Beverly. "After phasing into 2355, I will use this inhalational anesthetic to cause the Malkatans to fall unconscious," she said holding up some vials. "I will use a respirator myself to avoid the effect. Obviously all of the _Stargazer_ crew including Captain Picard will also fall unconscious."

"How long will the effect last?" asked Troi.

"About six hours if all goes well," said Crusher. "Meanwhile I will wake Captain Picard, and explain that he must take the neutralizer, wake the rest of his crew, using these hypos," she said, holding them up. "And that he must use the neutralizer to free the Stargazer and escape the Net."

"How do we know he will be coherent enough to understand what you're telling him?" Asked Laforge.

"We don't," Crusher said simply. "I am just hoping that he will be able to get beyond the fact that he's suddenly seeing me on the Malkatan base." She stood up. "I just have a few more preparations to make, and then I'll be ready. Alright?" she looked around at the group. The Traveler closed his eyes and then nodded. The rest of her crew was clearly reluctant, but no one seemed ready to disagree, or raise an alternative.

She stepped away from the table, and was aware that Troi was right behind her. She walked to her med kit and began organizing it. She glanced at Troi. "I know it's crazy, Deanna, but it might be our only chance," she said.

"I didn't come to challenge your plan, Beverly," said Troi. "We all trust in what you're doing—and we admire your bravery. I just want to warn you…when you see Captain Picard you may experience the desire to stay with him…in that world, despite the circumstances."

Beverly glanced sharply at her friend. "You know I wouldn't leave my son alone, Deanna."

Deanna smiled. "I do know that. But you might find that once faced with the Captain Picard of the past, your natural emotions may be overwhelming."

Beverly sighed. "Do you mean I will lose sight of which Captain Picard I am supposed to be saving? I know that whatever interaction I have with Jean-Luc in the past should be designed to bring back the Captain Picard we lost just weeks ago on Earth. I'll keep in mind what you've said, but I will just have to do my best, Deanna."

"Even if it means lying to him?"

Beverly hesitated. "Yes."

Troi smiled and hugged Beverly close. "Just be careful," she said.

* * *

**2367 Starfleet Headquarters (Present day)**

Lt. Worf stood in the defense control room at Starfleet Headquarters. He visually traced the ship assignment patterns on his floating star chart. In the last six hours, there had been reports of attacks on eight more Federation worlds. All of these were considerably further away than previous Malkatan attacks. Consequently eight starships had been called further away from Earth to investigate. As his eyes continued their journey across the star chart he could see that six more starships were otherwise occupied. "We're being left almost completely unguarded," he murmured to himself.

Suddenly the instruments in the room seemed to quiet down, and a low hum reverberated under his feet. "Sir!" A frightened looking ensign came running into the room. "Look outside!"

Worf moved quickly to a window overlooking San Francisco bay. Moving over the bay was a large black ring of energy, which appeared to swirl faster as it approached land. He watched as the Golden Gate Bridge swayed and then bent through some unseen force and then disappeared inside the swirling ring, which continued its approach undeterred.

Worf looked at the ashen young officer. "Today is a good day to die," he said.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

* * *

**2355 Malkatan Base**

The trip had been nearly instantaneous and easy enough. The crew had merely linked hands in a circle around Beverly and the Traveler. He had begun to phase, and then he had embraced her and she had found herself in a strange place. She still had her med kit and her phaser with her, and she was clad in her environmental suit, just as she had been aboard the runabout.

Whatever the Malkatans breathed was close enough to the air Beverly was used to, according to the meter on the inside of her helmet. Temperature was a bit chillier but would be tolerable, she figured. She pulled off her helmet and shook out her hair briefly before tucking the helmet under her arm. She took a deep breath and noted she wasn't too fond of the smell before locking the smaller respirator around her face. She glanced around her.

Apparently it was bedtime for Malkatans because she didn't see anyone around. The corridor was also very poorly lit, which could really only help her. She quickly checked the map. Thankfully the Traveler had placed her directly where she needed to be. She was in a corridor which held the environmental controls for the base. And at the end of the corridor which connected to this one, she would find the room that held Jean-Luc. She would first pass the larger room that held the other survivors from the Stargazer crew, but given her need to avoid unnecessary encounters, she couldn't stop to check on them, or interact with them.

Suddenly she heard trudging footsteps from down the hall and she shrank into a shadowed corner. Her breath now sounded too loud and clumsy to her own ears. Her heart raced and she held her breath on an inhale as the Malkatan footsteps approached. She recalled that Kad had warned her about the Malkatans' sensitive noses which he said was balanced by poor eye sight. Taking extra precautions she had sprayed herself down with an agent to mask her scent. Hopefully it had done its job.

She held very still as the Malkatan stopped just over a meter away. The first thing she noticed was its stocky build. It turned slowly to face her and took a halting step forward. Unable to look away her eyes widened. It was an extremely unattractive being, with eyes that squinted even in the darkness, and two small slits for a nose. She heard it sniff in, which sounded more like a long hiss. She realized it was trying to discern if it smelled an intruder. _It can't see me in the dark_, she thought even as her heart beat faster.

For an insane moment she pictured herself throwing herself on the mercy of the strange alien. As long as it took her to see Jean Luc, she didn't care what else happened after that. She would see him again; alive. Even if it wasn't quite the Jean Luc she had known recently, he would still be the man she used to know. She screamed silently to herself to stick to the plan. It couldn't see her. She would succeed.

The Malkatan moved forward slowly in the darkness and all thought of giving up was erased. Her hand tightened on the phaser at her hip. It gave another long sniff and then turned abruptly, apparently satisfied that she, or rather nothing, was there at all. She closed her eyes briefly as it walked away, aware now that she had been staring unblinking into the darkness in terror. She could only imagine the terror Jean Luc had been feeling now for days; which is why she shouldn't waste any more time.

Glancing at the map again, she located her first destination, and then keeping close to the wall, crept along it until she reached the environmental controls. There was a large air vent adjacent to the control panel. According to the map the vent connected with all other air vents inside the base, so this would be a simpler affair than she had expected. Trying to steady her hand, she took out two vials of the Xenon inhalant and opening them, dropped them into the air duct. If all went well, and the powerful Xenon mix had the desired anesthetizing effect on the Malkatans, Jean-Luc would have six hours to accomplish what he needed to.

* * *

She found the room, and a Malkatan guard who lay just outside of it unconscious. She ran her tricorder over him. _He's completely out,_ she thought, relieved. She reached down and grabbed his security key and waved it over a panel on the door. It opened and she found yet another guard unconscious from the Xenon gas. It occurred to her that she could move them, tie them in restraints, or try to conceal them somewhere, but she could only focus on finding him. Besides, they looked heavy and she needed to save her strength for him. Her eyes scanned the room, which was very dark. She found another panel on the wall, and fiddled with it until she found something she hoped would turn the lights on. It worked but the room remained very dimly lit. It was strewn about with all kinds of debris, and apparent refuse. She saw him then, curled up in the fetal position on the grimy floor. Outrage flooded her brain. His maroon and white uniform was tattered and dirty, but he still wore it.

She rushed to him then and knelt down beside him. He was of course as completely unconscious as the guards. She injected herself with oxygen in case the Xenon had not dissipated from the air, and removed her respiration mask. Reaching down she felt for his pulse. It was strong. She rocked back on her heels, and fell over euphoric from finding him alive. She clasped her hands over her face for a few seconds to calm herself down.

When she removed her hands and dared look at him, she felt a shock of both recognition and surprise. Part of her had expected him to look like he had when she'd seen him last. She tentatively reached out and touched the top of his head. She remembered all those years before that when he'd called her before leaving for the Stargazer's last deep space mission he had just cut his hair very short, as his hairline was now receding rapidly. She ran her hand over his sandy brown hair, and then examined his face for injuries. She turned his face toward her. He had been in here long enough to start growing a beard, which didn't hide the fact that he was covered in cuts and bruises. A burnt hole through the right shoulder of his uniform confirmed Kad's claim that he had been shot. She could see that the wound had been cauterized, most likely from the disruptor blast. Kad had left out most of the details of that encounter, and for now she tried to put it out of her mind.

He was covered in filth and blood. Something inside her made her hesitate to wake him, and instead she decided to wash him, clean his wounds and then wake him. She doubted that he would allow her to do so once awake. It was an invasion of his privacy she knew, but she decided to approach it from a medical perspective. He was wounded and malnourished and needed to be cleaned so that he could survive.

* * *

She undressed him, which wasn't easy because he was completely unresponsive. The anesthetic had done its job and his limbs were heavy. At first she averted her eyes as she began to wash him with the supplies in her med kit and a soft wash cloth. But then she experienced a moment where she realized that she might never see him again, and her heart skipped a beat. After that moment, all of her efforts at being clinical retreated from her mind.

She admitted to herself for the first time that she found his body to be beautiful. She began to caress him lovingly, and despite the heavy anesthetic his body responded with arousal. Her breath quickened with her own feelings of desire rushing in and she realized the problem she had created. She quickly dressed him again, and waited a few minutes more for their mutual desire to subside a little bit before she held the hypo to his neck. Getting up quickly, she stepped back. It was too late to think of what to say to him.

His eyes fluttered open. He pushed himself up from the floor looking confused until he saw her. Then to her surprise he broke into a slow smile. "I _knew_ you would come back Beverly."

She stared at him gaping, not knowing how to respond.

He shook his index finger at her as though catching her in a compromising situation by which he was strangely amused. "After they tried to drown me, and you told me I had to find a way out myself…well I did," he said proudly. "And now you have rewarded me by coming back." He rose stiffly to his feet and limped over to her, and he grabbed her into a hug. "This is why I know you will never leave me," he said burying his head in her shoulder. "As long as I do as you say, I will be fine. I will survive."

He let her go and backed up holding her at arms' length. "Each time I see you, you grow more and more beautiful." He smiled again, and it was truly an odd expression to see played across such a battered and tortured face.

_He must believe that he is hallucinating_, she thought. She took a deep breath and smiled back at him. "Thank you, Jean-Luc," she said quietly. "What a lovely thing for you to say."

He rubbed his hands together, glancing around. "So where is breakfast? I'm sorry I yelled at you for eating those croissants last time we had breakfast together. I love croissants too, you know that. It's just that…well they were trying to kill me again Beverly, and I thought you had abandoned me. But I was wrong wasn't I?"

She felt tears fill her eyes. "No, I won't abandon you, Jean-Luc." As soon as she said it, the weight of the lie almost crushed her. Crouching down she looked inside her med kit. There were some kind of dried food rations in it, but she realized with horror that she had forgotten to bring such a basic thing such as food. And no doubt he really was starving. She stood up, handing him the rations shakily. He took them quickly nearly snatching them out of her hand and devoured them as quickly as possible. She handed him a bottle of water, which he drank just as quickly.

"Thank you, my dear," he said, sitting back down on the floor. He reached his hand up, inviting her to sit down beside him as though they were in a fancy restaurant. She sat down cross-legged beside him. It was clear to her that in conjunction with the disorientation from the Singularity Net, which was quite possibly causing him vivid hallucinations, he had created a world to retreat into to cope with the abuse he was being subjected to every day. And she was the center of that world. Troi's words began to ring through her head: "_you may experience the desire to stay with him…"_

Her expression must have been revealing because he reached out to her with concern. "Beverly, what's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," she reassured him quickly. She felt the neutralizer in her pocket, and took a deep breath. _Do it…just get it over with and leave, _she scolded herself silently. "There's something I need to tell you, Jean-Luc."

He frowned. "It's not about Wesley, is it? Because if he's having those nightmares again, I will talk to him of course. Once the baby comes I think he'll feel more secure. He'll be happier—of course we all will."

_Baby?_ Beverly got to her feet quickly. "Jean-Luc, no…no it's not about Wesley. Wesley's fine."

"Good then."

"You have to get out of here, Jean-Luc. Remember you said as long as you listened to me then everything would be alright…."

"Yes?"

She pulled the neutralizer from her pocket and showed it to him. "Well, I have a way out. A way to get to the _Stargazer_. This device will loosen it from the grip of the trap…the trap they used to capture you. And you and the crew will be able to escape."

He shook his head once in confusion. His mood changed as if she had mixed the fantasy and the reality in a way that truly disturbed him. "Escape?"

"Yes, escape. It's very important that you listen carefully." She explained the Singularity Net to him. It was clear he already knew something about it through the Malkatans—specifically General Unh, whom he mentioned several times.

Gradually it seemed to sink in with him, and he nodded, seeming more lucid. But his eyes also watched her more closely as though he was now trying to ascertain whether she was really there or still a figment of his imagination. But then she could see that the more he worked it through his mind, the more he reverted back to his starry-eyed vision of her. He took the neutralizer and map from her and put them down on the floor behind him. He moved forward and took her face in his hands. "You see? This is why I can always count on you Beverly. You always have my best interests at heart." She smiled back at him, and he kissed her lightly on the lips.

He moved closer. "Let's make love again," he said softly. She raised her eyebrows in surprise, but he didn't seem to notice; grabbing her to him firmly. She remembered what it had been like to bathe him she and felt her desire for him return swiftly.

"Again?" she murmured.

He nodded. "We can do it the way we both enjoy it the most," he said. He sat down on the floor and pulled her down to him. Kneeling next to him she pulled his head in and held him to her breast tightly, believing that her heart might burst.

* * *

When she awoke, she was still lying on top of him. He was wide awake and staring at her in the darkness. And when she pulled her head back to rest it on her palm to look at him she could see that he was crying. She ran her hand down the side of his cheek. "You…are you real?" he asked, his lips trembling.

She nodded and bent to kiss him. "Yes," she admitted.

* * *

When Beverly phased back into the runabout, the crew rushed to greet her, but she had a faraway expression, and they kept a respectful distance. She began to pace the hold of the ship. Deanna stood watchfully as her friend wrung her hands anxiously, and then ran them through her hair repeatedly, murmuring to herself. She seemed as though she had forgotten something important and was struggling to remember it. But Deanna thought it more likely that Beverly was simply coming to terms with the fact that she had left Captain Picard behind. Beverly looked physically well, but continued to pace, moving her lips as though arguing silently with herself.

"When you're ready to talk about it, I am here," Troi called out to her supportively.

Beverly stopped suddenly, turning to Deanna seeming to see her for the first time. "How long was I gone?"

Deanna sat down and looked up at Beverly. "About five hours…how do you feel?"

Five hours? It had seemed more like five days. "I—I don't know. It worked—at least I think it did. He had the neutralizer, he knew what to do…but I don't know whether they escaped or not. Was it enough?" She stopped and reached for Deanna's hand. Deanna returned her grip firmly with a look of concern.

"Beverly, we will just have to wait and see, but you did all that you could do. It's important for you to rest now and not dwell on-"

"Deanna, you were right. I let my emotions take hold of me…I did something I shouldn't have. So selfish…." She felt dizzy suddenly and tried to move toward the chair, stumbling.

"Data!" Troi yelled out. Data rushed to Beverly's side and gripped her elbow, helping to ease her into the chair. Beverly gestured breathlessly for Data to grab her tricorder. He picked it up and waved it over her. "You may be experiencing disorientation from your journey through time, Doctor. Your vital signs are normalizing…." He looked up quickly and raised an eyebrow.

Beverly sighed, starting to feel normal again as she sipped some cool water. "What is it Data?" she asked taking in the android's strange expression.

"Doctor…you are pregnant."

* * *

**End of Book One—Stay tuned for the second half: "Many Roads Untraveled: A Man Out of Time"**


End file.
